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THE REAL PRINCESS 










“ Did you ever see the real princess, Mr. John?”— Page 31 


















THE 

REAL PRINCESS 


By 

ELIZABETH GILE THOMSON 

M 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

ELISABETH B. WARREN 


o 





) * 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 











Copyright, 1924, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 

All Rights Reserved 

The Real Princess 



SEP ~B IS24 


Printed in U. S. A. 

1 Rorwoo& pre00 
BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass. 


©CU801604 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Did you ever see the real princess, 

Mr. John ? ” (Page 31) . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

The girls with one impulse ran into the Hux- 

ton yard.100 

“ You’re all wrong ! ” she exclaimed hotly . 166 

“ Why, Billy! ” cried Marjory joyfully . . 288 


5 


V 


/ 






The Real Princess 


CHAPTER I 


“ Mr. John!” 

The bent figure of the old gardener straight¬ 
ened up between the rows of hollyhocks at the 
sound of the small voice, and peered out from 
the mass of leaves that almost enveloped him. 
These were old Mr. John’s two favorites— 
flowers and children, and he had never been 
known to resist an appeal from either. 

“ Hello, Marjory! ” he called in a friendly 
voice, as he caught sight of a blue-ginghamed 
form on the other side of the garden wall. A 
tawny head bobbed up suddenly beside the dark 
one that showed above the blue gingham. 
“ Why, here’s Billy, too! Come in and stay a 
while, can’t ye? How’s the limb to-day, boy? ” 

“ ’S all right,” the boy answered as usual. 
Billy’s left hip was out of working order as 
the result of a fall in his babyhood, and he 
was forced to go about the greater part of the 
time with the aid of a crutch. Whatever the 

7 


8 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 

need of his body, Billy’s mind had no sympathy 
with crutches, and he scowled impatiently now 
as he was forced to let Marjory assist him over 
the low brick wall. 

“ I’ll just go on with these beds if you don’t 
mind,” said Mr. John, as, trowel in hand, he 
again bent over the plants. The boy and girl 
dropped on the grass behind him and gazed 
happily about. Then Marjory was recalled to 
the business of the moment by a furtive nudge 
from Billy. 

“ Mr. John, Billy wants a whistle like the 
one you made for me. Do you suppose you 
could make him one now? ” 

Marjory proffered her request in perfect 
confidence. She knew it was his delight to 
distribute these little knickknacks of his own 
making among his friends. 

“ I want it like hers, only bigger—^this big, 
see? ” Billy stretched his fingers along the 
grass to outline the rather large dimensions of 
the desired whistle. Mr. John looked around 
just as Billy, by a happy thought, was increas¬ 
ing the length by some inches. 

“ Seems to me you must want a factory 


THE EEAL PEESTCESS 


9 


whistle,” he remarked, taking up his spade, 
‘‘ Well, maybe I could make you one to-night, 
Billy, but I’ll have to be working here in the 
garden all day. You see, the lady’s written 
she’s cornin’ home.” 

“The lady!” Marjory repeated, casting a 
wondering glance up toward the towering brick 
house that stood at the head of the slope. It 
had stood so long without an occupant, except 
old Mr. John, that Marjory had almost reached 
the conclusion that there never was to be any; 
and Mr. John was so hospitable whenever she 
and Billy came to the big garden, as they did 
frequently, that it was hard to think of it as 
not his own. 

“Yes, the lady that owns this place. Didn’t 
I ever tell you about these folks? I guess 
Billy knows about them. It’s likely you’ve 
spent more time wonderin’ what the inside of 
the house looks like, than about the people who 
used to live in it,” he chuckled. “ Well, she’s 
cornin’ home.” 

“ Where’s she been? ” demanded Billy, as he 
and Marjory stared up at the tall windows with 
close-shut blinds. 


10 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


“ Well, I’ll tell you about them,” answered 
Mr. John, beginning to pick up his tools. 
“ But I’ll have to be moving, or I won’t get 
the place picked up before she comes. You 
come along with me while I tie up those vines 
along the porch. A whole lot of her folks used 
to live here with her before I came—her sister’s 
family ’twas. The sister’s husband had busi¬ 
ness over in England, and one summer they all 
set out for there—all but the lady that’s cornin’ 
now. She went to Boston to see ’em off. 
That was the last time she saw them.” 

“ Oh, I remember,” put in Billy. ‘‘ Aunt 
Martha said they were shipwrecked, and they 
were all drowned, and the lady here wouldn’t 
come back after that.” 

“Yes, that was it,” said the gardener. “And 
I don’t blame her much, though it happened 
ten or eleven years ago. But it seems she’s got 
trace of one of the sister’s children that was 
rescued and taken to England—there was two 
little girls, and now she’s found her, and’s 
bringing her home to live with her here.” 

“Didn’t they find the other little girl?” 
asked Marjory wide-eyed, for this story was 





THE REAL PRINCESS 11 

all strange to her as she was a newcomer in the 
little town. 

“ Drowned, too, I guess,” returned Mr. John 
sadly. Then his face brightened, for he knew 
that what he was about to say would interest 
one of his imaginative listeners, at any rate. 
“ But this one she’s bringin’ home—I hear it 
said she’s a princess.” 

‘‘A princess! ” exclaimed Marjory in amaze¬ 
ment. But Billy was skeptical. 

“ Ho! How could she be? ” he questioned. 

They don’t have princesses in Ameriea.” 

“No, but her father was French,” said Mr. 
John, well pleased with the effect that his 
words had made. “ I guess it’s true, Billy. 
Miss Cauleigh, that’s the owner, said in her 
letter only yesterday—‘ I’m bringing the prin¬ 
cess’ daughter,’—^those were her very words.” 

“A princess!” breathed Marjory, her mind 
on the heroines of the many tales she had read 
in Ihe children’s corner of the village library. 
“ A real princess! ” 

“ Well, I don’t suppose she’ll have anything 
to do with common folks, then,” concluded 
Billy practically. “ Course she’ll go to school 



12 THE EEAL PEINCESS 

at home, and have nothing but royalty around 
her.” 

“ Oh, do you think it will be that way, Mr. 
John? ” asked Marjory, her visions of frolick¬ 
ing with a real live princess dispelled in a 
breath. 

“And if you pass her on the street, even, 
you’ll have to say, ‘ How do you do, your 
Highness? ’ or ‘ Good evening, your Maj¬ 
esty,’ ” went on Billy, delightedly strength¬ 
ening his point. , 

Marjory sat quietly beside him on the wide 
porch steps, staring in an absent-minded way 
at Mr. John’s broad back as he mounted a 
ladder to reach the top of the thick honeysuckle 
vines. But even Billy’s discouraging remarks 
about the exclusive habits of princesses could 
not take all the exultation from her face. 

“A real live princess!” she repeated slowly 
but enthusiastically. “ Why, of course she’ll 
be friendly, Billy. All really truly princesses 
are lovely—they can’t help being so. But we 
should have to be awfully nice for her to want 
to be acquainted with us, you know.” 

“ Princess or not, she wouldn’t be worth 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


13 


knowing if she was too stuck up to play with 
any boy or girl that has good manners, and 
knows how to play fair,” commented Mr. John. 
“ Of course, though, she’d be ’way above play¬ 
ing with anybody that quarreled,” he added 
artfully. 

Marjory looked into his face a moment and 
then down at the stone beneath her feet. She 
turned toward Billy a little shamefacedly. 

“ We don’t quarrel so very-” she began, 

but stopped at the sound of a high-pitched, 
rasping voice. 

“Mar-jory! Mar-jor-ry!” 

“ I’m coming! ” she called back as she started 
down the steps. The spell was broken for the 
day, and potato-peeling and dish-washing must 
take its place; but at night-time, when all was 
quiet about her and time was hers again for a 
little while, her dreams could be devoted wholly 
and unreservedly to that fascinating subject, a 
real princess. 

“ Good-bye, Billy,” she said wistfully. 
“ Come over in the orchard to-morrow after¬ 
noon ; IVe got lots to talk about.” 



CHAPTER II 


‘‘ The more I think about it, the more things 
I can think of that we’ll have to be careful 
about when we play with the princess,” said 
Marjory, as she and Billy settled themselves at 
last in the soft lush grass of the orchard that 
lay back of the shabby Huxton house. Mar¬ 
jory was only resigning herself to call it home, 
for the dreams of a real home which the little 
girl had cherished all through those ten long 
years at the orphan asylum had been rudely 
dispelled upon her arrival here. Miss Sap- 
phira Huxton, who brought her from the home, 
“ on trial for adoption,” as she put it, had taken 
note of Marjory’s straight, lithe body and 
clear-cut features; but she had failed to take 
into consideration the dreaminess of the girl’s 
dark eyes. So it was to Marjory’s sorrow that 
both the house and herself were regarded by 
their guardian as instruments only to be used 

for every-day living. What did it matter if 

14 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


15 


the house did need a fresh coat of paint to make 
a proper setting for the fine old elms in front 
of it, or whether Marjory had not a single frock 
that gave her any pleasure in the wearing? 
But philosophic Marjory was now very grate¬ 
ful for even one hour of rest in the orchard 
after the long, tiresome season of picking over 
dried currants for Miss Sapphira’s use on bak¬ 
ing day. 

“ Billy, weVe got to practise how to act 
every minute before she comes,” went on Mar¬ 
jory, tucking an offensive patch on the blue 
gingham away from sight under one knee. 

“You mean when to say ‘ your Majesty,’ 
and ‘ your Highness ’ ? ” questioned the boy, a 
little doubtfully. 

“No, things lots more important than that. 
Anyway, I don’t believe she’ll want us to 
bother about saying that every time we see her. 
But if she does, of course we must. What I 
was thinking about was this, Billy,” explained 
Marjory earnestly. “ It’s just as Mr. John 
said, she must never see us quarreling, and to 
be sure of that, I suppose we mustn’t do it at 
all.” 


16 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


“ Well, we don’t quarrel because we want 
to,” reasoned Billy with energy. “We do it 
because we have to.” 

“ Oh, no, we don’t have to,” returned Mar¬ 
jory quickly. “ Don’t you remember, in those 
stories the good princess is always just as quiet 
when her sisters get to quarreling? ” 

“ Oh, then there are bad princesses! Maybe 
this one will be bad! ” cried Billy, who was 
really more interested in the latter variety. 

“ Oh, no,” protested Marjory almost in 
tears. “ Oh, Billy, you will spoil it all! No, 
she is good and beautiful like the ones we read 
about. I’m sure she is.” 

“All right, I’d just as soon she would be.” 
Mindful of their resolutions about quarreling, 
Billy kept the peace. 

“ Then there’s another thing. All the prin¬ 
cesses I’ve read about don’t care anything 
about clothes. Of course they like jewels and 
satins and things because they’re pretty to look 
at, but for every day, they’d just as soon go 
around in old—old—^well, clothes like mine.” 
Marjory looked down a. little more hopefully 
on the despised gingham. “ Because, of course, 


THE REAL PRINCESS 17 

you can see they’re princesses, no matter what 
they have on.” 

Well, that’s the way you ought to feel, 
Marjory,” remarked Billy carelessly, for this 
question of clothes did not touch his sympathies 
in any great degree. The stronger and coarser 
the weave of his little khaki trousers, the less 
likely they would be to get torn, and so the 
more he admired them. Soft silks and muslins 
held no charms for him. 

Marjory gazed at him a moment in silence. 
Then an exultant smile dawned on her face. 

“ Why, William Barnard, that’s just what 
I’ll do,” she cried enthusiastically. “ I’ll pre¬ 
tend I’m a princess, too; then, of course, every¬ 
thing I do will be all right. And you must be 
a prince, Billy.” 

“Ho! A lame prince!” rejected the hoy 
scornfully, and yet with a shade of wistfulness 
in his voice. 

“ Of course; why, don’t you remember the 
Little Lame Prince? ” cried Marjory. “ You 
didn’t catch him worrying over his troubles 
while he had his traveling cloak! 

“ But I haven’t got a cloak.” 


99 


18 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


“ You’ve got a mind, and that’s just as 
good,” returned his companion staunchly. 
“ You can’t keep your mind from wandering 
off and seeing things, no matter how lame you 
are! ” 

“ Well, that’s so,” Billy acknowledged, 

“ Then we’ll do it.” Marjory clapped her 
hands at so novel a break in the monotony of 
her matter-of-fact life. “ And we’ll begin to 
feel like a really truly prince and princess by 
the time the real princess comes. Oh, I wonder 
what her name is! ” 

“ Boucher—that’s the name of the man that 
used to live on the hill, Aunt Martha says.” 

“ But what’s her first name? ” 

“ I don’t know. They were just babies 
when they went away from here, you know. I 
guess I was, too; anyway, I don’t remember 
anything about them.” 

“But real princesses! Oh, Billy, next to 
having a sister of my very own, I think a 
princess would be the very nicest person to play 
with that we could ever think of.” 

“ If she’s nice; and if we think she’s nice, 
then she ought to be,” remarked Billy. 



THE EEAL PKINCESS 


19 


“ Yes, that’s another thing we must think 
about while we’re a prince and princess,” added 
Marjory. “ Real princesses never have any¬ 
thing to do with people that are horrid, you 
know. They just go on being good and kind 
themselves, so everybody about them just has 
to be good and kind, too.” 

“ Say, Marjory,” concluded Billy after a 
moment’s reflection, “ I believe it would be lots 
easier for us if your first wish came true. It 
would be lots more comfortable playing with 
your sister than with a regular story-book 
princess.” 


CHAPTER III 


“ Now, Marjory/' said Miss Sapphira Hux- 
ton, the morning after the conversation in the 
orchard, “ I think that six months is plenty 
long enough time for you to get acquainted 
with my way of living.” Miss Sapphira gave 
an emphatic squeeze to the dish-towels which 
she was putting through a last rinsing. “For 
my part, I think it’s time you began to have 
some method in your plan of living.” 

“ You mean I’d better get up earlier, and 
things like that? ” asked Marjory doubtfully, 
as she put away the last saucer in the neat cup¬ 
board. 

“ Oh no, child,” laughed Miss Sapphira, for 
no matter what faults her little ward might 
have, laziness, at least, was not among them. 
The ten monotonously regular years at the 
orphanage had seen to that. 

“ I can’t see just what you mean, Aunt 
Sapphira,” Marjory’s brow wrinkled per¬ 
plexedly, “ unless it’s that you think I waste 
lots of time out of school.” 

20 


THE EEAL PEESTCESS 


21 


“ Well, it’s partly that, Marjory. My 
father used to tell his children to make every¬ 
thing they did count. For instance, I notice 
that you got one of those silly girls’ books out 
of the library again yesterday.” 

Marjory looked distressed. Was this privi¬ 
lege of drawing books from the library, her one 
chance of seeing how other girls lived who 
were more favorably situated than herself, to 
be denied her? She had taken it for granted 
that it was everybody’s right to imagine pleas¬ 
ures for himself by reading about them and, as 
she had told Billy, to dream dreams. Marjory 
began to look rebellious. 

“ Oh, there’s nothing absolutely wrong about 
those books, Marjory,” Miss Sapphira hast¬ 
ened to assert. “ But I’m sure they can’t do 
you any good. And as for the story part of 
them, I’m sure that a well-written history 
makes just as interesting reading. So I think 
it would be best for you to take back that 
library book, and get an American history to 
read instead. That’s what I used to do when 
I was little, and it was good for me.” 

Marjory stood silent, not really compre- 


22 


THE KEXL” PEESTCESS 


bending the edict that had fallen upon her 
until Miss Sapphira was continuing the ex¬ 
planation of this new “ method.” 

“ Then in my day, each of us children, boys 
and girls alike, made a whole patchwork quilt 
from start to finish by ourselves; IVe got my 
eldest brother Henry's quilt up on my spare- 
room bed this minute.” 

For an instant Marjory did not catch the 
application of this remark to herself, and only 
her sense of humor was touched. The vision 
of a row of little khaki-trousered boys like Billy 
industriously pricking their stubby fingers over 
a series of big, unwieldy quilts struck her as 
overwhelmingly funny. Marjory laughed out 
loud. 

“ Oh, Aunt Sapphira, you don’t mean that 
the boys had to make quilts, too! ” she protested 
unbelievingly. 

“ Why, of course I mean it. Why not? It 
was good for them,” asserted Miss Sapphira, 
vigorously scrubbing the already spotless 
kitchen table to lend emphasis to her words. 
“ Yes, indeed, we all had to make one, and 
that’s what I want you to do.” 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


23 


Marjory looked horror-stricken. “ But 
Aunt Sapphira, I can’t sew. I don’t like to,” 
she faltered. 

Miss Sapphira picked up her words quick as 
a flash. “ That’s just why I want you to make 
one, Marjory. My father made it a rule for 
each of us to do at least one thing a day that 
we hated. It was the same way with clothes, 
too. He thought it was good discipline to 
wear clothes that you didn’t like. So instead 
of each one having one pretty dress, we each 
had a very plain, dark-colored one to wear for 
best. Of course I didn’t like to wear it then, 
but I can see now, after all these years, that it 
was splendid discipline.” 

Marjory stood in awed silence during the 
whole of this speech. The manners and customs 
of Aunt Sapphira’s family as she had depicted 
them sounded like the old fairy tales of bur¬ 
densome tasks and penances that she had just 
been forbidden to read. 

“ Well, Marjory,” said Miss Sapphira, 
bringing the little girl out of her revery with a 
start, “ we won’t begin on the quilt to-day, 
because I’ll have to go up and hunt in the attic 


24 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


for some pieces, but I guess there are plenty 
of other things you can do. Now, for this 
morning’s task, just pick out some one hard 
thing that you think needs to be done, but dis¬ 
like doing. What shall it be? ” 

Marjory gazed at her adopted aunt un¬ 
happily. Then a thought flashed across her 
mind. A princess! What would she do? 
Why, this situation seemed very like that of 
some of the story-book princesses, when they 
forced themselves to do penance for allowing 
themselves to think even a foolish thought. 
Now a real princess would go ahead and per¬ 
form the hated task without the least bit of 
grumbling or hesitation; and Marjory, for a 
time at least, was a princess. 

Why, a princess would do it. Aunt Sap- 
phira!” she exclaimed, speaking her thoughts 
aloud; then added slowly, “ I think I hate to 
put my bureau drawers in order about as badly 
as anything. I’ll go right up and put them 
in apple-pie order this minute.” With a bright 
look that mystified Miss Sapphira, she was off. 
A little tune drifted down the stairs after her. 

Left alone in the kitchen, the lady turned to 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 25 

whisk off an obtrusive fly from her spotless 
table. 

“ Well, I did get a lucky find in that child! ” 
she thought to herself. “ To think how we 
kids used to yell and squeal over that order! 
But whatever could she have meant by a 
princess being willing to do it? That’s beyond 
me! ” 

Up-stairs in the close little bedroom under 
the southwest eaves, Marjory was enthusias¬ 
tically emptying the bureau drawers on her 
little white bed, and thinking busily in the 
meantime. 

“ This isn’t so bad when I really get at it,” 
she consoled herself. “ I haven’t got so many 
things that keeping my drawers neat should be 
such a great burden. Now a real princess, 
with all her ribbons and laces and silks, would 
have to work awfully hard to keep them in 
order; so I’m lucky that way. I’ll never have 
that many.” 

Carefully she refolded the meager supply of 
hair-ribbons and laid them in a smooth pile in 
the drawer; then she attacked the freshly 
starched heaps of underwear in the second 


26 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


drawer, which were not quite in ‘‘ princess ” 
order. Each was carefully marked with an 
“ M. B.”, a relic of the old orphanage days, 
when underclothing was the only individual 
possession that Marjory had. What the “ B 
stood for she had never known. She knew 
only that those two initials had been pains¬ 
takingly embroidered on the tiny articles of 
clothing which, as a baby, she had worn when 
the stranger left her at the orphanage; and the 
head of the institution had urged Miss Sap- 
phira to continue the use of them in the faint 
hope of learning the child’s family identity in 
the vears to come. 

Marjory pushed the last drawer into place 
with a sigh of relief. “ That’s done! But the 
rest of it—^never to read any more stories, and 
that awful quilt! ” Marjory sat down on the 
bed, looking discouraged at the prospect of 
life before her. Then she straightened up and 
her eyes sparkled. “Well, I told Billy that 
we had our minds, anyway, whatever happened, 
and so we have. The only difference now is 
that I’ll have to live my stories instead of read¬ 
ing them. But oh,” she added with a gleam 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


27 


of fun, “ I can’t help thinking how awfully 
sorry I could have been for Aunt Sapphira’s 
poor little brothers! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


Billyh’s whistle was not done when he and 
Marjory peeped in upon the gardener at work 
again, two days later, in the rose arbor belong¬ 
ing to the big house upon the hill. Mr. John 
shook his head regretfully. 

“ No, no,” he said, pulling away at a long- 
branch that had grown up beyond the trellis 
into a near-by tree, “ Tm sorry, lad, but this 
business of gettin’ ready for the folks takes all 
my time, it seems. Why,” he stopped a 
moment to lean a hand against an upright bar 
of the trellis, “ I was workin’ over the vines on 
that big porch till after sunset the other night; 
then the moon came up to make me stay a 
while longer. No, Billy, you’ll have to wait 
a bit for that whistle; but never ye fear, you’ll 
have it sometime.” 

Snip, went the pruning-shears, and another 
runaway rose-branch came tumbling to the 
ground. Marjory and Billy, watching, found 

seats along one side of the pretty little rose 

28 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


29 


arbor. Billy leaned the hated crutches up 
against the side of a pillar and settled himself 
comfortably on the bench. 

“ That’s all right, Mr. John,” he said 
pleasantly. “ I’m glad you haven’t started, 
because I wanted to tell you again to be sure 
and make it a big one. There’s no hurry 
about it. Take your time, but make it as big, 
oh ever so big, as you can.” 

Marjory beside him was gazing past Mr. 
John’s big figure toward the side of the house 
which showed above the heavily massed 
shrubbery surrounding it. Instead of being 
sleepily shuttered, as it had been when she had 
looked before, all the blinds of the house were 
wide open and the shades in each window were 
drawn high. The flutter of a white cloth 
showed in one as she looked. 

“Why!” she exclaimed. “Has somebody 
come already? Look, some one’s shaking a 
dust-cloth! ” 

Mr. John turned and glanced at the house 
as she spoke, but quickly went back to his work. 
“ It’s Mrs. Prentice and a helper in there,” 
he explained. “ They’re cleaning the whole 


30 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


house, so that when Miss Cauleigh gets here, 
everything will be spick and span and ready for 
her. It’s pretty dusty, with nobody in it all 
these years. I opened it up and it was a 
mighty queer-looking place, I can tell ye,— 
everything in big white cloths to keep it from 
the dust—all the carpets rolled up, and musty 
as the hold of one of these banana boats out 
here on the ocean. My, it was big enough to 
make a body shiver just to smell the air! And 
those big white things all about the big rooms 
looked like ghosts ready to jump out at a 
body! ” He sniffed a little nervously, and 
stopped to glance in the direction of the house. 
“ It’s a good thing that the folks are cornin’ 
back here to live. I don’t like to see a big 
house like that standing around empty so long.” 

“ There must be lots and lots of room in it,” 
mused Marjory, chin in hand, staring at the 
blank windows with the deepest interest. “ It 
would have to be a pretty nice house for a 
princess to want to live there. I s’pose she 
used to have her own private suite of rooms and 
a lady’s maid and lots of other servants to wait 
on her and amuse her, didn’t she? ” 



THE REAL PRINCESS 


31 


Mr. John began to gather up the clipped 
rose-branches into a heap, and smiled a little at 
this question. “ Well,” he answered, “ that 
sounds like what they have in books, but for a 
fact, I can’t tell you whether it was so in this 
house or not. My work was in the garden, 
not around the house. But I reckon if she 
wanted to live in America, she’d take to 
American ways and not have all the fuss and 
feathers of foreign royalty where it wasn’t 
fittin’.” 

“ Did you ever see the real princess, Mr. 
John? ” Marjory leaned forward wide-eyed 
in her eagerness. Her chances to come as close 
as this to scenes and people that might be walk¬ 
ing in story-books had been very few in the 
orphan asylum; and the life at Miss Sapphira’s 
was no less matter-of-fact. Marjory could not 
miss the opportunity of finding out about the 
princess, even at the risk of seeming a little 
curious. 

The gardener straightened up over the pile 
of tangled rose-branches. He took off his bat¬ 
tered brown hat and thoughtfully rubbed his 
forehead. 


32 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


“ Well, now,” he said, “ there’s a poser. 
Did I? ” He was lost in thought for a 
moment. “ I was younger then than I am 
now, but I wasn’t here very long before they 
left the house in my care,” he continued. 
“ Can’t think that they ever acted as if she was 
a member of a r’yal family, but come to think 
of it, I do remember Miss Cauleigh’s sister. 
She was a little thing, with lots of black hair 
and great big brown eyes. She liked the 
pansies, I remember. She never could get 
enough of them—treated them as if they was 
all children, talked to them an’ petted them.” 

Marjory clapped her hands, her eyes round 
with excitement. “ Oh, I like that! ” she ex¬ 
claimed in delight. “ That is just what a 
princess would do—w^alk in her garden every 
day and talk to the pansies. Wliere was it, 
Mr. John—where was the pansy bed? ” 

Mr. John, the branches filling his arms, nod¬ 
ded toward a bare space at one side of the rose- 
trellis. Part of ’em were here,” he said, 
“ and the rest were over on the east side of the 
house. There was a great round bed over 
there, set in the middle of the lawn. Mv, how 





THE EEAL PEINCESS 


33 


those pansies did bloom! They got the early 
sun and then shade the rest of the day; that’s 
what pansies like! Well, there are mostly 
weeds now. If you want to come along with 
me, perhaps we can take a peep into the house,” 
he added kindly, enjoying the children’s in¬ 
terest in the big house and its story. 

Marjory and Billy eagerly accepted the in¬ 
vitation and followed their friend up the 
flagged garden walk with unconcealed interest. 
The little girl, lost in a fairy dream in which 
she, just every-day Marjory Huxton, found 
herself walking in a garden and into a great 
house belonging to a real princess, almost 
stumbled in her haste to get up the front steps. 

“ Careful! ” warned Mr. John gently, look¬ 
ing over his shoulder at his small guests. 
“ ’Twouldn’t do to break your nose over get¬ 
ting into a house on your first visit. Well, 
here’s the winter sun-room, where they used to 
keep all the plants from the garden that would 
live over the winter.” 

The three entered a large double glass door 
which opened upon a glassed-in room, bright as 
the day outside, but standing strangely still 


34 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


and empty of all except a single dusty-looking 
rocking-chair. The chill of the long-closed 
house had not yet left it in spite of the o]Den 
windows. Marjory and Billy felt themselves 
shivering a little as they peered ahead into the 
darkness of the rooms beyond, their eyes daz¬ 
zled from the white light outside. 

“Oh—ee!” came from Marjory, as they 
followed Mr. John through the door beyond. 
He had spoken true. The room in which they 
were standing was crowded full of white- 
shrouded shapes of every size. Above them, 
in the morning light, a crystal chandelier glit¬ 
tered. The light from its shining balls was re¬ 
flected manv times in the long mirrors on the 
walls at the side and in the oval one over the 
large fireplace. They twinkled back and forth 
at each other like live jewels. The floors were 
bare and gleaming. The great roll of rugs 
that lay piled in one corner would soon make 
the rooms seem more homelike. This room 
seemed to be the central parlor, for doors 
opened from every side. Farther on, ahead of 
them, they could see other twinkling chande¬ 
liers shining in the light of other windows. 



THE KEAL PRINCESS 


35 


Their spotless clearness showed that Mrs. 
Prentice and her helper had already been at 
work here. Numberless other mysterious 
shapes crowded the rooms in each direction. 
The children felt a delicious little thrill of ex¬ 
citement. 

“ Just like a lot of ghosts! ’’ whispered Billy 
in awed delight. 

Perhaps Mr. John felt a little remorseful at 
leaving his garden work so long; at any rate, 
he soon turned and led his guests out into the 
sunshine again. But they had seen enough of 
the main rooms of the great house to know that, 
when everything was ready, the princess and 
her aunt would live in comfort. To the chil¬ 
dren, the house seemed nothing less than a 
palace. No dwelling in the village below was 
anywhere near so grand as the one on the hill. 

And this was where the new little princess 
would live! Marjory followed Billy down the 
steps slowly, her mind full of wonder and de¬ 
light over it all. They did not forget to thank 
their old friend for his kindness in letting them 
peep inside the great house, but he put them 
off gimffly, saying that it was no trouble at all. 


36 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


They left him attacking an army of weeds in 
a new part of the garden, and found their way 
slowly down the hill again. 

‘‘ I don’t s’pose weTl ever see her,” spoke 
Marjory with sadness. “ She’ll ride about in 
a closed carriage; and of course we can’t go 
into her garden after she comes to live in the 
house.” 

Billy took a much more optimistic view of 
the matter. “ H’m,” he mused reflectively. 
“ If she’s that kind, Marjory, she wouldn’t be 
much of a princess—and besides, if she is, why, 
you’ll not have to worry about your dresses or 
your manners or anything, but just be a 
regular girl the way you always have.” 


CHAPTER V 


“ Oh^ but Billy! ” Marjory’s tone was both 
disapproving and disappointed. “You know 
all the time that I want her to see us and to 
speak to us. And if we practise a lot, maybe 

she won’t find us so different. I wonder-” 

she hesitated a little. They were passing the 
orchard that lay beside and behind Miss Sap- 
phira’s shabby little house. “ I don’t believe 
Aunt Sapphira would mind so very much if 
we stopped to practise a little bit now, do you? 
Let’s!” 

Billy assented good-naturedly. “ I don’t 
know whether she’d be very glad about it,” he 
remarked, as he tried to imagine the effect of 
practising fancy steps for the princess in front 
of practical Miss Sapphira. “ Maybe she’d 
think it was silly,” he added as he slipped under 
the barbed-wire fence in the wake of the little 
girl. 

Marjory thought of Aunt Sapphira and the 
library books, and wondered if Billy’s guess 

were right. This led to another idea. 

37 



38 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


“ I’m afraid she could never come to see me,” 
mourned the little girl. “ Aunt Sapphira 
wouldn’t do the things one has to before a 
princess and I’m afraid she wouldn’t learn. 
And if I can’t go to see her and she can’t come 
to see me, how can we ever get acquainted? ” 

Billy dropped luxuriously on the softly up¬ 
holstered carpet of the orchard. He lay down 
on his back and gazed up into the yellow flecked 
leaves of a gnarled old ax3j)le-ti'ee. All this 
fuss about the princess seemed to him unneces¬ 
sary. What could one want of tiresome people 
who required a lot of bows and trouble when 
one could spend pleasant hours in a place like 
this? 

“ Look, Marjory,” he broke in, pointing to 
an overhanging branch. “ The robin’s nest is 
gone! ” 

Marjory, her forehead drawn into a troubled 
pucker, followed his gaze absent-mindedly. It 
was true; the nest that they had watched from 
its building in the early spring was no longer 
in its snug crotch. Only a few trailing grasses 
gave evidence that it had been there. 

“ It’s that old blue jay,” answered the little 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


39 


girl without much interest. “ Ever since the 
little birds were hatched, he has been snooping 
around waiting for a chance to bother them.” 

“ It’s a good thing he waited till they were 
big enough to fly,” mused Billy. “ Anyhow, 
they didn’t need the nest any more, and maybe 
it wasn’t very strong, either.” 

But Marjory’s attention was not to be dis¬ 
tracted for very long. Up and down on the 
long grass glided the little blue-ginghamed 
figure, once again absorbed in the story-book 
life that had opened up before her. Marjory 
stopped at the end of her walk and delivered a 
sweeping bow before a giant clump of elder¬ 
berry-shrubs. 

The boy turned over on his side, head lean¬ 
ing on his elbow, to watch her. 

‘‘ Thank you, your Majesty. I shall be very 
glad to do that, your Majesty,” he heard her 
saying in a soft little voice. Then she slowly 
backed away in Billy’s direction. 

Marjory repeated the performance twice. 
She came up to him at length looking a little 
dissatisfied. 

“ That looks kind of funny to me,” said Billy 


40 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


frankly. “Especially if you had to do it 
down-town somewhere, where folks aren’t used 
to it. I think maybe it would draw a crowd.” 

Marjory looked crestfallen. “ But that’s the 
way they act before that kind of people,” she 
insisted, her color rising. “You will have to 
do it, too, Billy, all the more because you’re a 
boy. Why, you—you’ll have to kiss her 
hand!” 

The boy rose to a sitting position and 
clasped his knees. “ Well, I won’t,” he said 
firmly. “ I won’t kiss any girl’s hand, not 
even the queen’s. I’m an American, I guess,” 
he flaunted bravely, “ and I don’t have to do 
that kind of thing.” 

“ Mavbe if she sees we don’t like to do it, 
she wouldn’t make us,” conceded Marjory with 
gravity, seeing that Billy was in earnest. “ It 
won’t matter so much, anyway, if we feel like a 
prince and princess ourselves. We’d know just 
when to do the right thing, then, because we’d 
have the right feeling. Oh, I do hope,” she 
went on, looking soberly down at the blue dress, 
that she doesn’t mind plain clothes! ” 

“ She couldn’t find a prettier place than this 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


41 


to play in,” reasoned Billy sensibly, “ and how 
would she get along if she wore one of those 
sparkly princess things that would tear at every 
step she took? ” 

“ Her crown would fall off, too,” agreed his 
companion. 

“Ho! I don’t believe they wear crowns 
nowadays. It would be tumbling off every 
other minute and would get whacked and 
dented and maybe broken. If she wears one 
of those things, she’d better stay at home.” 

“ She needn’t mind that very much,” said 
Marjory, “ when she has that lovely house to 
stay in and all that big garden. My, I can’t 
think of anywhere in all the world where I’d 
rather live than up on the hill! ” 

Billy rolled over on the deep grass again, and 
flinging his arms behind his head, once more 
peered up into the twinkling apple leaves. “ I 
can,” he said. “ I’d rather be a sailor and go 
to sea in a ship and see all the parts of the 
world. Whoo-oo,” he breathed, sighing deeply, 
“ wouldn’t that be great? Nothing but green 
ocean around you lots of the time, and you’d 
sail on and on; and maybe there’d be a big 


42 


THE KEAL PKI:N^CESS 


storm now and then, and the giant waves would 
break over the prow; then the captain’d cry, 
‘ To the masts, boys! ’ and all the sailors would 

rush up the rigging-” 

‘‘ Oh, Billy, stop! ” cried Marjory shivering. 
“ Please don’t talk about it! ” 

He looked at her in surprise. “ Why, what’s 
the matter? ” he asked. 

Marjory’s eyes had grown dark as she lis¬ 
tened to Billy’s account of the imaginary storm. 
Now she turned away, half ashamed of her 
terror. “ Oh, don’t let’s talk about the ocean! 
I’m glad we can’t see it from here. Let’s talk 
about the big house. How do you suppose it 
will look when they have all the things un¬ 
covered? ” Marjory seated herself beside the 
boy on the turf, sitting upright beside his prone 
figure as if she were ready to jump up the next 
moment. Although little might have hap¬ 
pened as viewed by an outsider’s eye, it had 
been an exciting morning for Marjory. She 
was almost as nervous as if it had been a real 
princess before whom she had made her bows, 
instead of an innocent clump of elderberry 
bushes. 



THE EEAL PKINCESS 


43 


“ I think they’d better hurry up if those 
people are coming very soon,” remarked Billy 
lazily. “ The princess won’t like those rooms 
full of white things any better than we did. 
They’d make her shiver, too.” 

“ Oh, they’ll have them ready, I’m sure. 
Mrs. Prentice always starts to work early—O 
my!” 

For the second time, the lame boy looked at 
his friend in bewilderment. Marjory had 
jumped to her feet and was hurriedly smooth¬ 
ing down the blue gingham dress. 

“ I forgot all about it! ” she exclaimed in dis¬ 
may. “ I have to go right away, Billy. Aunt 
Sapphira wants me to sew on that quilt to-day. 
It’s two hours on Saturdays and one hour on 
every other day, except Sunday, of course. 
She was going to cut out the pieces last night 
and told me I was to start putting them to¬ 
gether this morning. To think how nearly I 
came to not thinking about it at all! Well, 
good-bye, Billy, I’ve got to go.” She started 
off in the direction of the little house. 

“ Coming back this afternoon? ” he called 
after her. 


44 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


“ I’ll come if I can/’ answered Marjory, over 
her shoulder. 

Billy watched her blue dress flutter out of 
sight behind the low-hanging branches of the 
old apple-trees. From what he had heard of 
the new program, Marjory’s life promised to 
be a very busy one. He could not see how she 
would have any time left at all on school days 
to spend in the orchard after this. 

A little rebelliously he got to his feet and 
hobbled off in the direction of his aunt’s house. 


CHAPTER VI 


“ I WAS just wondering where on earth you 
had disapx3eared to/’ said Miss Sapphira with 
satisfaction as Marjory came into the kitchen. 
“ Now those pieces, Marjory, are in the sitting- 
room laid in a little square work-box I used to 
have when I was a little girl like you.” She 
wiped her hands hurriedly on the towel behind 
the door. “ I’ll just show you how to get 
started and you can begin. I’m going to clean 
out the top shelf in that cupboard while you’re 
working and keep you company. My, it’s a 
long time since I’ve looked at that shelf—must 
be all of two months.” 

The lady bustled into the other room after 
Marjory, contentment and industrious energy 
in every movement. She seemed oblivious to 
the little girl’s lagging footsteps. Miss Sap¬ 
phira thought so much about her housekeeping 
duties that she had no time left to think about 
her own comfort or any one’s else. Now she 

led Marjory gleefully to the corner of the room 

45 


46 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


where she had arranged the materials for mak¬ 
ing the quilt. The work-basket she had men¬ 
tioned lay on a little sewing-table by the 
window. In it were piled bright-colored 
squares of dark and light cotton cloth. Mar¬ 
jory obediently seated herself in the rocker be¬ 
side the table and listened to the directions 
which her aunt gave her. Then she set to 
work. 

After a few moments, Miss Sapphira came 
over to see how Marjory was getting along. 
She expressed a good deal of surprise that any 
little girl could be so awkward in taking simple 
stitches. 

“ My! My! ” she exclaimed, picking up the 
first squares that the child had completed. 
‘‘ Why, Marjory, you don’t know the first 
thing about running a seam! Here, let me 
show you.” And taking the work, she pro¬ 
ceeded to rip up the result of her ward’s efforts. 
Then she began to sew, with quick nervous 
stitches. Marjory looked on with a mild de¬ 
gree of interest. 

“ Of course,” admitted Miss Sapphira, after 
a moment’s silence, “ if you weren’t a little girl 


I 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 47 

so that you had to learn to sew, I should run 
these up quickly on the sewing-machine. In 
my day we didn’t have any sewing-machine in 
the house—I don’t believe there was one in 
town. But I can see now that all those hours 
spent in sewing squares were good for us all, 
and I know it would be now, even though the 
work could be done so much more quickly on a 
machine.” 

“ Why did they invent machines, then? ” in¬ 
quired Marjory, her eyes upon Miss Sapphira’s 
flying fingers. 

“ Of course, Marjory, it’s quite proper to 
use them when you’re grown up, and when you 
must get through work in a hurry,” answered 
Miss Sapphira quickly. 

“Well-” the little girl hesitated; then 

gave impetuous rein to her thoughts, “ I’d 
always be in a hurry, Aunt Sapphira! I 
should think any one would be who wanted to 
get a great many things done in one day.” She 
stopped, wondering if she had said too much. 

“ It will be all right for you to decide for 
yourself when you’re grown up, Marjory,” re¬ 
turned Miss Sapphira a trifle hastily, for she 




48 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


felt that an argument was in the air, “ but now, 
while you’re young, I think it’s best for you to 
have some practice at hand sewing. There, 
you take it; I declare, it makes my arm ache, 
I’ve done so little sewing of that kind in late 
years. A machine is surely a blessing. Well, 
now I’ll start on that cupboard.” 

Marjory set to work with a whirl of different 
feelings in her head. She had less enthusiasm 
for this sewing-hour than ever, since she per¬ 
ceived that Miss Sapphira had an even smaller 
amount of patience with the art than she her¬ 
self did. But again she reminded herself that 
complaining would be one of the habits tabooed 
by the princess; and with that thought to urge 
her on, she worked away at the squares with a 
fair semblance of cheerfulness. 

Miss Sapphira was removing the articles 
from the top shelf of the cupboard to a news¬ 
paper spread on the dining-room table. The 
little kitchen step-ladder creaked under her 
weight as she climbed methodically up and 
down. After a few minutes, as Marjory bent 
industriously over her work, she heard a rattle 
and a thump; and a small square parcel 


THE EEAL PEmCESS 


49 


wrapped up in an old newspaper fell to the 
floor under Miss Sapphira’s feet. 

Marjory ran to pick it up for her, wondering 
if the object inside had broken. 

Her aunt hurriedly took it out of her hands 
and felt of it carefully. Then she descended 
from the step-ladder and standing by the din¬ 
ing-table, partly untied the strings that held 
the newspaper. 

‘‘ My! ” breathed Miss Sapphira in relief, as 
she took off the wrappings. “ I'm surely glad 
it wasn't broken 1 " 

Marjory, who had stood silent during this 
operation, stared at the little square black- 
walnut picture-frame that came to view. The 
gilt at its inner edge was tarnished and spotted, 
and the small frame itself so simple and unim¬ 
posing that she wondered why her aunt thought 
so much, as she apparently did, of such a 
homely little picture-frame. 

Miss Sapphira gazed down at the frame, 
turning it over and over, to see that even the 
slender wooden backing intended to secure the 
picture was unharmed. She crossed the room 
slowly, still holding the frame firmly in her 


50 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


hand, and sank down into a rocking-chair near 
Marjory’s sewing-corner by the window. The 
little girl, her mind all a question, followed her. 
Without a word she took her own chair and 
again picked up the hated cotton squares. She 
did not venture to ask the stoiy of the package. 

“ It was careless of me to drop that,” said 
Miss Sapphira after a moment. “ I expect 
you think it’s queer, Marjory, that I care so 
much about this picture-frame,” she added, 
glancing at her ward. Then she pressed her 
lips together tightly. “ It’s pretty old—older 
than you are, by a good deal, but to me it seems 
brand-new. I saved my pennies for it when 
I was two or three years younger than you are, 
and bought it for a picture of my brother 
Henry, when I was nine years old.” She 
stopped rocking, and turned suddenly to look 
out the window into the shadowy orchard. 

Marjory glanced up quickly. “ The one 
who made the quilt. Aunt Sapphira? ” 

“ Yes.” There was a pause. Then, “ He 
died when I was twelve.” It was easy to see 
that, though the grass might have grown tall 
over Henry’s grave, the hurt in the sister’s 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 51 

heart had not lessened with the passing of the 
years. 

“ But where is the picture, Aunt Sapphira? ” 
asked Marjory. 

A shadow passed over Miss Sapphira’s face. 
“ It’s in the album on the table in the front 
room,” she said simply. “ Father wouldn’t let 
me keep the picture in the frame because he 
thought it ought to stay in the album after 
Henry died. It was mine—Henry gave it to 
me himself—it was one that he’d had taken 
after school along with some other boys. They 
each had one, and each of them gave his away 
to his best girl. Henry gave his to me. I 
don’t see whv Father wouldn’t let me have 
it-” 

She broke off, as if a little ashamed of her 
outburst. “ Here, I’ll show it to you,” she 
said in a matter-of-fact tone. She got up and 
went into the darkened front room, which 
Marjory had never seen. Presently she re¬ 
turned, carrying a large heavily bound album. 
A peculiar musty odor drifted out of the front 
room, the door of which she had left ajar. 

“ That’s Henry,” she said quietly, laying the 





52 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


open book on the little girl’s laj) and pointing 
to one of the pictures. 

Marjory gazed wonderingly at the serious 
face of the young man—for so he seemed to 
her—and the fair hair brushed smoothly away 
from it. He was dressed in old-fashioned 
clothing, and he was posed in a stiff, unnatural 
manner against a balustrade that formed part 
of the picture. 

“ He didn’t look one bit like you, did he. 
Aunt Sapphira? ” she said after a little. 

“ No—^nor act like me, either,” said Miss 
Sapphira, her black eyes softened. “ Henry 
was always different from the rest of us— 
always obedient and never rebelled. You’d 
never think it—we were so different—but we 
were chums always, Henry and me. He was 
the best boy to take me anywhere you ever saw. 
Of course there wasn’t much time to go places, 
as we were always pretty busy at home, 
doing our different stints. It did us good hav¬ 
ing them, Marjory—don’t think for a minute 
that I’m not approving of them.” She sighed, 
lost in a reverie of remembered things. 

Marjory, staring at the picture, felt about 






THE EEAL PKINCESS 


53 


Miss Sapphira’s attitude something which kept 
her from asking more questions, and the next 
moment Miss Sapphira herself changed the 
subject. 

“My goodness!” she exclaimed, getting to 
her feet. “ Here it’s eleven o’clock, and I am 
sitting here just visiting, as if there wasn’t a 
thing in the world to do! I must finish up that 
shelf and then get dinner started. I’ll have to 
hurry if I get it ready by half-past twelve. 
You can look at the rest of those pictures if 
you want to, Marjory. I expect you’ll think 
they all look pretty queer.” 

“ What does it matter if we don’t have dinner 
right on time? ” asked Marjory, emboldened 
by the unusual depth of feeling which her aunt 
had shown. “ Won’t you show me those pic¬ 
tures yourself. Aunt Sapphira? ” 

“ No, no, child,” answered Miss Sapphira, 
hurriedly moving toward the cupboard. 
“Why, we couldn’t be late! Father always 
insisted on having meals on time, even when he 
was too old to enjoy them very much. I’d feel 
wrong all the rest of the day if we were late.” 


CHAPTER VII 


It was plain that Miss Sapphira thought she 
had been acting very foolishly in allowing her¬ 
self to think so long about times gone by. 
Even though the dinner-hour was not far awaj^ 
and the shelf-cleaning uncompleted, she had 
jumped up and gone at her work again with 
much more energy than those duties called for. 
The shelf-paper crackled under her swift, firm 
hands, and the articles went back into the cup¬ 
board far more quickly than they had come out. 
A few moments afterward she disappeared into 
the kitchen, where the clink of dishes and an 
appetizing fragrance gave notice in a few 
moments that dinner, served at noon in the old- 
fashioned way, was well under way. 

Left in her sewing nook in the corner by the 
window, Marjory turned over the leaves of the 
old album one by one, gazing at the array of 
stiff, prim faces that adorned the pages. The 
odd manner in which the ladies dressed their 

hair, the flowing lines of their full and elaborate 

64 : 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


55 


dresses, the blackly-bearded aspect of the 
gentlemen, the pouting, self-conscious children, 
were full of interest to the little girl. In the 
pages next to Henry’s picture were three other 
children who bore a marked resemblance to 
Miss Sapphira in their brunette coloring, and 
these Marjory decided must be her aunt’s 
sisters and younger brother. But it was the 
elder brother’s photograph that drew her at¬ 
tention again and again, after the others had 
palled. To call forth such praise from Aunt 
Sapphira, Henry surely must have been an un¬ 
usual boy. How different he was from Billy, 
who though he was younger would never lose 
the cheerful grin and smiling eyes that showed 
his unfailing optimism! 

Absorbed in a closer study of the boy’s pic¬ 
ture, Marjory bent over the big book. As she 
did so, the paper binding which held in the old 
photograph, grown loose from its weight, 
shifted a little, and she caught sight of some 
faded handwriting just beneath. She could 
not resist puckering the frame a little more to 
give her a further peep at the writing. 

“ For Sapphira, on her ninth birthday, from 


56 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


her loving brother, HenryApril 30, 1862. 
Many happy returns of the day.” 

It was written in a large round hand, which 
was clearly that of the subject of the photo¬ 
graph himself. But the little girl was not so 
much interested in this as in the date written out 
here. The big insurance calendar with its large 
black figures hung on the wall opposite, and 
Marjory stared at it hard to make sure. Yes, 
this was Saturday, the thirtieth of April! She 
was thinking very fast. This was Aunt Sap- 
phira’s birthday, then. And she had not said 
one word about it! Marjory stared at the 
writing. Could it be that Aunt Saj^phira had 
forgotten the date of her own birthday? Or 
was it because she remembered that she had to 
celebrate it all alone that she had talked about 
Henry and this picture so much? 

Marjory puzzled a while, bent almost double 
over the big book, her quilt squares scattered 
about on the floor, quite forgotten. Not far 
from them, near the rocking-chair where Aunt 
Sapphira had been sitting, lay the little walnut 
picture-frame, also forgotten. 

“Marjory! It’s quarter-past twelve, and 


THE HEAL PEINCESS 57 

time to set the table!’’ came a matter-of-fact 
voice from the kitchen. 

The little girl looked up, startled. “Yes, 
ma’am,” she answered dutifully. Then she 
caught sight of the picture-frame. Aunt Sap- 
phira in her hurry to get back to the shelf¬ 
cleaning had forgotten to put it away, that was 
clear. What should she do with it? A sudden 
daring thought came into Marjory’s head. 
Impulsively she picked up the little frame and 
laid it on the table beside her. Then as care¬ 
fully as she could she got the picture of Henry 
out of its pocket in the album. She laid the 
picture on her chair, and almost breathless at 
her audacity, closed the big book and placed it 
at right angles on the sewing-table. She tried 
it several ways to see which would attract the 
least notice. There did not seem to be much 
difference in any of the ways, as the book was 
too large to hide itself easily among others; 
but there was just a chance that Miss Sapphira 
would not notice it again. 

Then with nimble fingers Marjory fitted the 
faded little picture into the black-walnut frame, 
which seemed to have been waiting for it. The 


58 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


thin wooden backing slipped in neatly over the 
picture again, and the steel brads went easily 
back into their old holes. With a mixture of 
delight and awe, Marjory surveyed the result 
of her work. She sat down in her little sewing 
chair then, her arms folded over the picture, 
wondering how she was to show it to Aunt Sap- 
phira at the best advantage. 

“ Why, Marjory, how many, many times 
have I told you to put your work away neatly 
after you’ve finished sewing? ” Miss Sapphira 
appeared in the doorway, busily wiping a large 
earthenware bowl as she spoke. “ And the 
table’s not even started! Hurry, Marjory! 
Dear me, why are we all so behindhand to-day, 
I wonder? ” And to the little girl’s relief, she 
disappeared again into the kitchen. Her aunt 
had not noticed anything except the disorder 
on the floor; that in itself was cause enough for 
relief. 

“ It’s what she always wanted. And now 
her father’s dead, what difference would it 
make? ” reasoned Marjory to herself as she set 
the plates and silver in place on the table. 
“ She’s wanted that picture to be in that frame 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


59 


all this time, and she ought to be happy when 
she sees it in. Besides, her father isn’t here to 
scold her.” 

The picture lay in Miss Sapphira’s chair, 
hidden under the white cloth of the dining- 
table. When the lady should draw her chair 
away to sit down to dinner, she would discover 
the picture and look across at Marjory in her 
glad surprise. Then they would laugh and 
talk happily together about the long time Miss 
Sapphira had waited to do just this thing, and 
how glad she was that it had been done now. 
All this was as Marjory pictured it in her im¬ 
agination; but somehow a little chill of fear 
crept up and down her back when she thought 
that her aunt might not welcome what she had 
done. 

“ Henry would want her to have it there,” 
she went on to herself. ‘‘ He meant her to 
have it, not that dusty old album in the dark 
front room. He’d like his picture to hang in 
the frame out here where it’s sunny and bright. 
We could think of him every day when we 
looked at it.” Even this was not enough to 
make her lose the guilty feeling, however. 


60 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


By the time Marjory had the table com¬ 
pletely set, and the bread and butter brought 
in from where Miss Sapphira had gotten them 
ready in the pantry, she was panic-stricken. 
The awfulness of the thing she had done struck 
her with full force. She thought of the hard 
tasks which Miss Sapphira’s father had re¬ 
quired of his children, and remembered how 
well he was used to being obeyed. She knew 
that severe punishments for disobedience were 
not rare in Miss Sapphira’s family. And now 
not Miss Sapphira, but she, Marjory, had dis¬ 
obeyed this terrible man! She had done ex¬ 
actly what had been forbidden. To be sure, 
the punisher was dead, and might not ever 
know about it. But the little girl had heard 
stories at the asylum of how dead people came 
back to life and wandered about the places 
where they used to live. Now that she had 
thought so much about it, the dead man did not 
seem dead at all, but quite able to torment 
those who disobeyed his wishes in the most ter¬ 
rible ways that any one could think of. 

Marjory, clinging to the chair in which lay 
the framed picture of Henry, fixed her eyes 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


61 


upon the album lying on the sewing-table, and 
wondered if she could make the change in quick 
enough time not to be discovered. She must 
do it; she must try, anyway. Quickly she drew 
the chair out. 

A series of exclamations of ‘‘ O dear, O 
dear, O dear!” reached her ears from the 
kitchen. Then, “Marjory! Come here; I 
need you! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


It was too late. Hurriedly the little girl 
pushed the chair back into place against the 
table, and went into the kitchen. She felt a 
faint sick sensation in the pit of her stomach. 
Why couldn’t she have left the old frame 
alone? 

Miss Sapphira, with one hand in the food 
box just outside the pantry window, was wait¬ 
ing for her, indignation written upon her face. 

“ That old cat got into the box and tipped 
the coffee cream over. Hand me that bowl 
quick, child! ” She pointed to a dish on the 
pantry shelf. 

The mischief-maker, that must have been 
very thin indeed to squeeze even a paw down 
between the window and the edge of the box, 
had not succeeded in carrying away his booty. 
The cream-bowl hung pendant between a 
package of bacon on one side and the wall of 

the box on the other. Beneath it, on the paper 

62 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


63 


spread over the bottom of the box, lay a large 
circle of the cream. This Aunt Sapphira was 
endeavoring to reclaim by holding against the 
edge of the box a damp dish-towel. Vexation 
was plain both in her voice and in her face, as 
Marjory, wordless, handed her the bowl. 

“ What people want to keep cats for is more 
than I can see!” exclaimed Miss Sapphira. 
“ Please hand me a large spoon, quick, Mar¬ 
jory! If they keep them, why don’t they feed 
them, instead of making them steal like this? 
It’s that old gray cat on the corner, I feel sure 
of it. Well, if I’d stayed in the kitchen this 
morning the way I should, this wouldn’t have 
happened. Here I’ve got to clean this whole 
box now, just when I put fresh paper in it 
after breakfast! ” 

When the two were ready to sit down to 
their meal, ten minutes later, after they had 
again completed the cleaning of the pantry 
window box, it was clear that Miss Sapphira 
was in no mood for birthday surprises. 

It was too late to make any changes now, 
however. Marjory, trembling with excite¬ 
ment, fearfully drew out her own chair, and 


64 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


not lifting her eyes, slipped into her place at 
the table. Miss Saj)phira was intent upon 
hurrying through the belated meal as fast as 
possible. She had already sat down before 
she realized that some object already occupied 
her chair. The little girl opposite flushed red 
to the roots of her hair. 

“ Why, what’s this? ” said the lady, getting 
up hastily. ‘‘That frame! I forgot all about 
it.” She picked it up, turned it over, and her 
lips parted in surprised astonishment. Then 
she looked across at the culjDrit, who was wish¬ 
ing desperately by this time that she and the 
gray cat could have taken to their heels to¬ 
gether. 

“ Did you put this in here? ” Miss Sapphira 
asked in a hard expressionless voice. 

The terrible day proceeded. “ Yes, I did,” 
acknowledged Marjory miserably. 

Miss Sapphira stared down at the framed 
picture in her hands with thin tight-closed lips. 
Her cheeks, usually shaded with the pink which 
her strenuous housekeeping duties brought into 
them, now seemed to the anxious child gazing 
at them to have turned a dull sort of yellow. 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


65 


Aunt Sapphira looked older than Marjory had 
ever seen her before; and yet the little girl had 
the feeling that the two of them somehow were 
criminals together. She cast a sudden horrified 
glance at the parlor door which still stood ajar. 
Then her gaze returned to the lady across the 
table. For the first time since she had come 
to live with Miss Sapphira, Marjory thought 
the lady looked frightened. She was staring 
at the picture in a dumb sort of dismay. 

“ Oh! ” she finally gasped out. ‘‘ Oh, Mar¬ 
jory, how could you? Didn’t I tell you—this 
picture must go right back! Where is the 
album? ITow could I be so careless?” She 
made a quick gesture toward the table near the 
window, and then, catching sight of the album, 
hurried over to it and rapidly found the place 
from which Marjory had taken the picture of 
Henry. With nervous haste her fingers found 
their way to the back of the little picture-frame, 
released the photograph, and put it in its old 
place in the big album. Aunt Sapphira said 
not a word as she did this. Marjory watched 
her with a kind of wretched fascination. Not 
knowing what else to do, the little girl remained 


66 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


in her seat at the table, where their dinner was 
rapidly cooling. 

Miss Sapphira slipped the picture-frame into 
one of the drawers of the sewing-table, and re¬ 
turning to the dining-table, grimly resumed 
her seat. The meal went on from this point 
as usual, but Marjory felt as if she could not 
touch a morsel upon her plate. After a 
moment her aunt, busily buttering herself a 
piece of bread, looked up in surprise. 

“ What is the matter with it, Marjory? ” she 
asked not unkindly. 

“ I—I don’t feel hungry just now, I guess,” 
returned her little ward, nevertheless trying to 
swallow a mouthful of potato after she had 
spoken. 

1 

Miss Sapphira leaned back in her chair and a 
softer expression stole over her face. “ There, 
now, I didn’t mean to be so grumpy,” she said, 
looking at Marjory in real concern. “ Did I 
speak harshly, child, to make you feel so bad? ” 

Marjory shook her head. She could not 
trust herself to speak. It was all as plain as 
day to her now how foolish she had been to 
meddle with the frame, when Aunt Sapphira 



THE REAL PRINCESS 67 

had felt as she did about it. She had meant to 

I 

make her aunt glad, and this was what had 
come of it! 

Miss Sapphira did not press her with further 
questions. She went ahead with her dinner 
almost as if nothing had happened. The tight 
look about her lips gradually disappeared and 
Marjory began to breathe freely once more. 
This was not a very happy way to celebrate a 
birthday; but still she did not know how to 
mend matters. Her thoughts flitted about in 
her head trying to find a way while she sat 
there, pretending to enjoy the meal. 

‘‘ I might as well tell you, Marjory,” said 
her aunt as they rose from the table and began 
to clear away the dishes, “ that while what you 
did wasn’t really bad, still it was touching what 
really was not yours and what you had no right 
to meddle with.” Her brows puckered as if 
in deep thought. With her finger-tips she 
smoothed down the crease in the table-cloth as 
she went on slowly, “ Now I was thinking all 
through the meal just what was best to do 
about it. If it were Father—if we’d done a 
thing like that when we’d been told not to, 



68 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


we’d have been sent up-stairs for the rest of 
the day without anything to eat.” 

The little girl began to breathe fast again. 
Was the terrible j)unishment to be meted out to 
her, too? The fasting mattered little to her, 
but the humiliation, the mortification of it! 
Besides, she had really done nothing wrong. 
With bright eyes and hot cheeks she looked 
timorously up at the face of the woman who 
held her destiny in her hands. 

Miss Sapphira, meeting her gaze, looked 
startled. She went around the table and laid 
a hand on the child’s shoulder. 

“There, Marjory! Don’t take it so hard, 
child! Just wait a minute till I explain what 
I decided to do. Now it doesn’t seem as 
though staying up-stairs all day without having 
anything to eat would really do you any good 
that I know of. It would keep you out of mis¬ 
chief, but that’s all. What I thought of was 
this: I want you to read a half-hour in the 
history book I’m going to give you. Now I 
don’t suppose you’d do that from choice— 
neither of us would—but it’ll be good for you, 
Marjory, and you ought to do something extra 




THE EEAL PKINCESS 


69 


well and hard to make up for meddling with 
the picture-frame. I’ll go and get the book 
right off.” 

She turned abruptly and went into the dark¬ 
ened front room. Her mind a whirl, Marjory 
gazed after her. Never had the mysterious 
depths of the front parlor seemed so dark and 
fearsome as now. It was almost as if Miss 
Sapphira’s father were in there, waiting for 
his chance to seek revenge. The little girl re¬ 
mained by the table, an overwhelming feeling 
of horror and dread possessing her. What 
sort of history was this which was to come out 
of the front room? There were history lessons 
at school, of course, but she had neither minded 
them nor liked them. They had not interested 
her. Perhaps the history in the front room 
was different. Perhaps it was a history that 
belonged to Miss Sapphira’s father! 


CHAPTER IX 


Marjory lived a few very dreadful moments 
while Miss Sapphira was looking for the history 
book in the front parlor. Why should it take 
so long to find a simple reading-lesson like 
that? 

Still the muffled sound of the shuffling of 
books issued from behind the half-closed door. 
The truth was that Miss Sapphira was finding 
some difficulty in locating the one set of history 
volumes which she knew had been in the family 
library. She had not found time to read them 
herself, and the only occasion on which they 
ever came into the daylight was the semi¬ 
annual season of house-cleaning. Books meant 
very little to the lady who gave her whole life 
to her sweeping and dusting and cooking. It 
was a fact that she hardly knew one binding 
from another, so far as the contents were con¬ 
cerned, in the case full of books behind the 
parlor door. 

In anxious suspense the little girl waited, 

70 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


71 


trying desperately to find some consoling 
feature in the gloom ahead. Finally she drew 
a deep breath and with trembling hands forced 
herself to go on with the stacking of the dinner- 
dishes on the table. 

“ Well, anyway,” she thought to herself, “ it 
isn’t so bad as staying up-stairs all day doing 
nothing. And—why, a half-hour will go after 
a while. It will go lots faster than an hour, 
and there’ll be the afternoon, maybe, to for¬ 
get about it in. Maybe Billy and I can run up 
to the house on the hill before it gets dark and 
see Mr. John. Oh, I do believe,” she breathed 
to herself, “ that there’ll be something nice in 
this day, after all! It isn’t nearly over yet.” 

There was a blank silence in the parlor now, 
save for the sound of turning sheets of paper 
now and then. Marjory plunged again into 
her thoughts. 

“ There’s this about it, too,” she reasoned, 
“ if it’s horrid and awful and terrible and Aunt 
Sapphira wants it to be that way for me, why, 
I guess I can stand it and let it be. It’s only 
for a half-hour, anywaj^ and afterward-” 

The parlor door opened again and Miss 




72 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


Sapphira appeared, bearing a large heavy 
volume bound in dark-brown mottled leather. 
As she approached, the peculiarly heavy musty 
odor again filled the room. Marjory gazed at 
the book without a word. 

“ Come over here in the window,” said Miss 
Sapphira, leading the way to Marjory’s 
sewing-chair. There, child, sit down and I’ll 
show you where I want you to read.” 

As the little girl seated herself. Miss Sap¬ 
phira laid the huge old book upon her lap and 
opened it at random. Marjory had to brace 
her knees to support the weight of the old 
history, and the queer odor which issued from 
its pages made her shrink away from it in 
distaste. 

Miss Sapphira must have felt something of 
this, for she stood looking down at the child, a 
thoughtful hand against her cheek. She 
seemed to be wavering over the situation. 
Then a glance at the album on the little table 
near by appeared to strengthen her resolution 
and she pressed her lips firmly together. 

“ It’s a quarter-past one now, Marjory,” 
she said, glancing at the old-fashioned clock on 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


73 


the mantelpiece. “ You are to read until a 
quarter of two, beginning right away. I’ll 
take care of the dinner dishes, child,” she added 
in a softer tone as she walked over to the table. 

Marjory obediently bent to her distasteful 
task. As soon as Miss Sapphira with the last 
of the dishes had disappeared into the kitchen, 
she had no scruples in shielding her nose with 
her hand as she fixed her eyes on the finely 
printed page. It could not be said that the 
little girl retained anything of what she read 
for some minutes, as she had no idea of what 
country this was the history or whether, for 
that matter, it concerned any country at all. 
She had had no training which would have led 
her to open the old book at its title page and 
thus find out the subject of which it meant to 
treat. All she could see was a blur of finely 
printed words, separated in the middle of each 
page by a fine black line, and once or twice 
broken by a square space at the margin where 
other fine words were printed. There were no 
pictures to break the monoton}^ and many of 
the words were without meaning because of 
their length. 


74 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


Perhaps—Marjory found her thoughts 
wandering—perhaps this was Aunt Sapphira’s 
father’s history book when he was a little boy, 
and probably he actually liked this kind! If 
he loved to plague his own little boys and girls 
and make them do odious tasks and wear 
clothes that they hated, what more likely than 
that he would always like this kind of book, 
even with its queer smell? Maybe everything 
in his house smelled this way, to show that it 
belonged to him. Maybe he himself smelled 
more strongly of it than'anything else—even 
the books- 

Marjory broke off, her eyes darkening with 
horror of this imagined family. Then the re¬ 
membrance of Miss Sapphira’s softened look 
came to her and the little girl resolved that 
she would do her part in the matter. 

‘'If she wants me to read this history, I will,” 
she told herself, and forthwith began again at 
the top of the page where Miss Sapphira had 
opened the book. 

It was difficult to fix her attention upon 
reading such fine print, and many of the words 
were hard, but Marjory struggled on. She 




THE KEAL PEINCESS 


75 


began laboriously to whisper the sentences to 
herself. The interest of seeing whether she 
could really manage to read them began to 
take hold of her, and she made progress down 
the page at a very fair rate of speed. Then 
something caught her eye which made her bend 
more closely over the heavy old book. She 
quite forgot about the musty odor. Here at 
last was something she could understand. 
IMarjory read the sentence over twice, slowly 
and carefully. 

“ The princess! ” The words tumbled them¬ 
selves about in her head, and with them came 
rushing the wonderings and imaginings with 
which she and Billy had been so lately occupied 
in the orchard. 

Marjory went back a little, up the finely 
printed page, and read it again. “ ‘ A week 
later, on an evening in the beginning of July,’ ” 
she whispered over slowly to herself, “ ‘ Lady 
Clarence, Mary’s favourite attendant, brought 
a message, that the queen was expecting her 
sister in her room. The Princess/ and here 
she read even more slowly that she might be 
sure to get every word, ^ was led across the 


76 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


garden in the duskj and introduced by a back 
staircase into the royal apartments/ '' 

Perhaps the garden was just like the one 
where she and Billy had been spending that 
hour in the morning with Mr. John. What 
more likely, since it was really a princess’ 
garden? Did the princess like pansies? And 
was there a back staircase in the house upon 
the hill? Of course there must be. 

Marjory read eagerly on. She was soon to 
find that royalty is not all equally noble and 
true, for the queen who was thus waited upon 
by the royal princess showed a jealous and 
selfish disposition. She seemed to have only 
hatred and fear in her heart for the gentle little 
sister who was summoned into her presence. 
Queen Mary of England in 1555, alas, had 
little of happiness in her life, and it is not sur¬ 
prising that she was bitterly jealous of the 
young, strong, and beautiful Princess Eliza¬ 
beth whose progress Marjory was following 
with such deep interest. 

When Miss Sapphira came into the dining¬ 
room again at a quarter of two, she found her 
ward bent close over the yellowing pages of the 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


77 


old history book, her cheeks flushed with her 
intentness and the soft dark hair curling 
damply about her hot forehead. Marjory did 
not look up until Miss Sapphira spoke. There 
was a mixture of surprise and remorse in the 
lady’s tone. 

“ There, child! You can go now. I dare 
say you’d been punished enough fifteen minutes 
ago. My, it seemed to me out in the kitchen 
that this half hour’d never go. I thought the 
clock had stopped a dozen times! ” 

Marjory looked up vaguely. It was clear 
that her thoughts were far away, both from the 
clock on the mantelpiece and the homely little 
dining-room itself. She stared at Miss Sap¬ 
phira as the meaning of her words gradually 
made itself plain to her. The lady was taking 
the heavy volume off her lap and was hurrying 
toward the front room with it. Marjory’s 
protest was faint, but her aunt felt it. She 
turned in surprise, half-way across the room. 

‘‘ Why, child, you don’t mean to say you en¬ 
joyed that book! ” 

The little girl hung her head in confusion. 
“ I—I don’t know,” she confessed, afraid that 


78 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


her interest in the story of the queen and 
princess was like that in the library books which 
Aunt Sapphira had condemned, “ I really 
didn’t mind it, Aunt Sapphira,” she added in 
a low tone, as if in apology. 

Miss Sapphira continued on her way into the 
front room. Marjory could hear her talking 
mutteringly to herself. ‘‘ If she isn’t the beat- 
ingest!” she was saying. “Enjoying a dry 
old history book! ” 


CHAPTER X 


Over in the big gray house with white trim¬ 
mings across the street, Billy was engrossed in 
something quite different from Marjory’s 
studious occupation,—for he was playing dolls! 
Billy’s dolls were quite a unique kind, however. 
Perhaps one who could have peeped in upon 
him lying prone upon his little white-enameled 
bed early that Saturday afternoon would never 
have realized that those queer things which 
Billy was throwing so queerly to and fro were 
dolls at all. 

Perhaps, also, if Billy had had his way, he 
would never have happened upon this now 
familiar pastime. He would never have 
thought of dolls, if it had not been the law in 
his Aunt Martha’s house to take a nap every 
afternoon, as regularly as the hour of one came 
around on the clock dial after dinner. It was 
in vain that Billy had tried to escape from this 

rule. As long ago as the dim and far-away 

79 


80 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


babyhood which he could scarcely remember, 
his aunt had placed him in his crib and then 
had gone to her own room for the afternoon 
rest hour. The older Billy grew, the more it 
seemed to him that these naps were a waste of 
time in a day of beautiful possibilities. But 
his frequent rebellions met with even sterner 
and more watchful resistance. 

“No, Billy,” Miss Barnard had said firmly. 
“ When you are grown up, you may do as you 
please, for then you will be strong and well. 
Now, while you live with me, we are going to 
be very careful of ourselves, and of you par¬ 
ticularly. You know you aren’t veiy strong, 
Billy, but you know also that, with proper care, 
you will outgi'ow your weakness and be as fine 
and sturdy as the best of them.” 

Billy longed with a yeartiing that filled every 
nerve in his body to be “ as fine and sturdy as 
the best of them ” right now. He rebelled 
against having to think always of the lame hip 
that was a constant drag upon his activities as 
well as his strength. He hated his crutches 
with the intense hate of a dreaded enemy. He 
was never so happy as when, in those times 


THE KEAL PRIi^CESS 


81 


when he felt no pain, he could thrust his 
crutches behind him out of sight. Then he 
could become absorbed in something else and so 
forget that he had to use them. Sometimes 
during the hours in the orchard with Marjory 
he could do this. But times like these never 
made up to him for his inability to play with 
boys at boys’ games; for under Billy’s chest 
beat a heart as boyish in all its eagerness and 
love for active sports as one could have been 
which had its place in a strong, normal body. 
He resented his weakness bitterly. 

Thus it was only a boy’s natural distaste for 
anything that seemed to him so childish as an 
afternoon nap that made it so hard for Billy to 
follow this custom. To go to bed in the middle 
of the day like a baby! The humiliation of it 
was keen to Billy. Numerous times he had 
waited until the house seemed to be wrapped in 
sleep so that he could climb out of bed and find 
something quiet to do to pass away the dread¬ 
ful time; but on each occasion he had been dis¬ 
covered and sent back to his bed with a stern 
reproof. 

Sleep would not come to Billy at these 


82 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


times, hard as he might try to follow his aunt’s 
directions. Nothing seemed harder to bear 
than to lie there on his pillow and stare at the 
ceiling for a whole hour of minutes that seemed 
as long as hours themselves. It came about 
naturally, therefore, that some pastime had to 
be brought into use which possessed the unique 
features of being interesting and being easily 
whisked away, if need be. Billy did not mean 
to deceive his Aunt Martha. It was just that 
he could not, and this he was very sure of, he 
could not lie a whole hour upon his bed with¬ 
out anything to do. So it was that dolls, and 
a queer kind of dolls, found their way into 
Billy’s scheme of things. 

There were twenty-two of these odd-looking 
dolls. A casual observer would have called 
them clothes-pins, for despite the queer-looking 
splotches of ink that adorned them here and 
there, they answered to that description. 
Billy had listened with some fear and trem¬ 
bling, many weeks back after the happy idea 
had occurred to him, to a conversation that took 
place between the hired laundress and Miss 
Barnard. Together they launched into a 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


83 


chorus of wonderment as to why the clothes¬ 
pin bag seemed so gaunt and empty. A search 
of the yard where the clothes-pins might have 
fallen off the line failed to account for the 
slimness of the supply. The cloud of wonder¬ 
ment and perplexity blew over, however, for 
Billy’s aunt was not the kind to fret over small 
losses; and the boy retained his plunder with a 
clear conscience. 

Each of the dolls had a head, a mannish- 
looking head with hair parted squarely in the 
middle, and bold-looking eyes, nose, and mouth, 
painted in ink upon its knob. Below the head, 
each had a strange assortment of ink splotches 
arranged on its body; but it was plain that 
every clothes-pin had legs, and further, that 
each clothes-pin wore short trousers and gayly 
striped stockings. 

“Touch-down!” whispered Billy in an 
ecstasy of glee, flinging a number of the dolls 
into a heap upon a small agate marble. Then 
in a lower, more mournful whisper, added, 
“ Hold ’em, hold ’em, hold ’em, Princeton I 
Hold ’em like a stone wall! ” 

With this he rearranged the group into foot- 


84 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


ball formation again, and began the next stage 
in the game, “ rooting ” impartially and fer¬ 
vently for both sides. 

There was a sudden movement outside his 
door, which Billy, his ears alert, did not fail to 
catch. In an instant all signs of the recent 
encounter were swept off the field under the 
sheltering pillow, while Billy burrowed his head 
into it as an effective body-guard. 

The next moment. Miss Barnard’s head ap¬ 
peared around the half-closed door, and her in¬ 
quiring eyes rested upon the figure on the bed. 

“ All right, Billy? ” she inquired in a low 
voice, as if afraid of waking the sleeper. 

It did not occur to the lad to conceal the fact 
that he was awake. He turned his head and 
looked at the lady in the doorway, without re- 
plying. 

She stepped inside to pick up a shred of 
thread which had fallen on the carpet. 

“ You can get up any time you want to, 
Billy. It’s five minutes past two. I must 
have overslept, somehow. This spring air 
makes me sleepy. How do you feel, Billy? ” 
she asked, looking at the boy with careful 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


85 


solicitude. It seemed to her that his eyes were 
too bright and his cheeks more highly flushed 
than would naturally be the case if he had been 
resting properly, 

“ All right/’ replied Billy indifferently. He 
flung his arms behind his head and stretched 
his legs. The football game was still absorbing 
his attention. “ Aunt Martha/’ he inquired 
suddenly, “ did you ever go to a real football 
game—not a little one—but a real game at a 
college somewhere? ” 

Miss Barnard observed him with affection 
in her eyes. ‘‘ Why, I guess so, dear,” she 
answered, “ but it was a long time ago, when I 
was in the academy, and I don’t remember very 
much about it.” 

“ Well, how much does it count when they 
kick a goal after a touchdown, Aunt Martha? ” 

This was a question which his aunt was un¬ 
able to answer, and she said so. Billy was not 
long in flnding out that she did not even know 
what he meant. He sighed deeply. 

“ My, I wish I could play in a game of foot¬ 
ball ! ” he said wistfully. “ Seems to me that’d 
be the most fun in the world! ” 



86 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


Miss Barnard was straightening the window 
shade, but turned to look at her nephew. Her 
eyes were soft when they rested upon him, but 
there was a firm line about her lips as she spoke. 
“ Maybe you can some day, Billy,” she told 
him, adding, “ especially if you’re careful to 
take a nap after dinner every day and do the 
other things that will make you strong.” 

“ But my hip. Aunt Martha, could I play 
with a hip like that? ” 

His aunt turned to the doorway leading into 
the hall. There was a calm and certain assur¬ 
ance in her tone as she answered gravely, “You 
won’t feel it at all after you’ve got your growth, 
Billy. That’s what Uncle Will said, you 
know. He was a fine doctor—none better in 
the town—^and he surely ought to have known. 
He always said you’d outgrow it. You’ll have 
to be patient and wait, dear.” 

She went out into the hall and down the 
stairs with a brisk step. Billy, left upon his 
pillow which held down the squads of wooden 
football players, felt himself to be almost as 
wooden as they. 

“ Well,” he told himself at last, “ if patience 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


87 


is all I need, I guess I can manage to get it 
somehow. Being able to play football would 
be worth anything.’’ 


CHAPTER XI 


‘‘You see, I can pretend that the quilt is my 
magic loom,” Marjory told Billy hopefully. 
She was spending the quiet part of the after¬ 
noon directly following the “ nap period ” 
which had been decreed by Aunt Sapphira, in 
the orchard with the new prince. Billy was 
an interested listener while she recounted the 
details of the new “ method ” of living which 
she was to follow. His was not pity for a 
forlorn, mistreated princess, however, but a 
genuine sympathy for a little girl who was 
compelled by an inexorable aunt to perform 
burdensome tasks. A gleam of admiration 
appeared in his eyes as he listened to the 
various pretend-names which Marjory gave to 
the tasks to lessen their tediousness and to 
make them more like the tasks of a princess. 

“ Well, say,” he commented approvingly 
when the subject of the quilts was explained. 
“ You do know how to do it, don’t you? I 

guess I’d have to be more than a prince to be 

88 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


89 


ready to make a quilt, even if I were a girl. 
Say, do you suppose those boys really had to 
sew on those quilts? ” 

“ That’s what Aunt Sapph-” Marjory 

started to say, but was interrupted by a soft 
“Hello!” from behind her. A girl a little 
taller than Marjory, with dark hair and eyes, 
stood before them. 

“ I just happened to wander around here a 
few minutes ago,” she said in answer to their 
questioning looks, for neither Marjory nor 
Billy had ever seen her before. “And I 
couldn’t help hearing what you said about 
quilts, and your having to make one.” 

“ Won’t you sit down? ” asked Marjory 
politely, while she cast secret admiring glances 
at the pretty frock which the newcomer wore. 

“ Yes, I’d like to,” returned their guest, 
dropping down regardless of her frock, on the 
soft grass by Marjory’s side. 

Billy meanwhile had not a word to say. As 
usual before strangers, he hastened to thrust his 
hated crutch quietly out of sight. He gazed 
at the newcomer’s pretty, refined face and 
listened to her soft voice, with reluctant admi- 



90 THE KEAL PEINCESS 

ration. She was not at all of the same sort as 
the girls of the town whom he and Marjory 
knew in the public schools. Marjory was not 
like them, either, but he had become accustomed 
to her being different, and took it for granted. 

“ It seems queer to see all those woods and 
hills over there,” remarked the girl, waving her 
hand toward the open space hack of the or¬ 
chard. “We didn’t have open fields like that 
where we lived in England.” 

“England!” exclaimed Marjory incredu¬ 
lously ; then her eyes opened wide with wonder 
and delight, as she stammered unsteadily, 
“Are—are you the-? ” 

“ I’m going to live over there in the brick 
house on the hill,” returned the girl quietly. 

Marjory, in her abashed frame of mind, 
took it for a rebuke to her curiositv, and was 
silent. But Billy, having found his tongue at 
last, was not to be put off so easily. 

“ Say, you aren’t going to make us call you 
‘ your Majesty ’ and ‘ your Highness,’ are you, 
now? ” he asked her brazenlv. 

“ Billy! ” There was undisguised horror in 
Marjory’s voice. 



THE KEAL PEINCESS 


91 


But the girl only looked surprised. “ Of 
course not! ” she answered, staring at him curi¬ 
ously. “ What a crazy idea! You must think 
I quite fancy myself! ” she added scornfully, 
and evidently meant what she said, for Billy 
received a scant portion of her attention after 
this. 

“ Oh, you’ve got your white dress all grass- 
stained!” exclaimed Marjory, as her new 
friend shifted her position, and displayed a 
patch of green on the fine fabric of her dress. 

“ Never mind,” the girl returned carelessly, 
and added, “ I’m always having something 
happen to these dresses. I use up about three 
fresh ones every day. I wish I had some nice 
ones like yours, now, that wouldn’t get torn so 
easily. Oh, I’m going right up to the house, 
and have Aunt Mabel get some for me! 
There’s a dressmaker up there now and she 
can make them just as well as not. Come on 
with me, won’t you, please, so I can show her 
just what it is I want? ” This unrealistic 
princess got up, surveyed the marred frock for 
a moment, and then looked questioningly at 
Marjory. 


92 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


Marjory could not believe her ears. She 
gazed down at her inevitable blue gingham, and 
then up into the princess’ eyes. 

“You don’t mean that you actually want a 
dress lik^ this I have on? ” she questioned un¬ 
believingly. 

“Yes, I do; I like it and I’m going to have 
Aunt Mabel order some made for me, too. 
I want them just the same color as yours. 
Can’t you come up to the house with me now? ” 

“ Why, of course I can,” responded Mar¬ 
jory with a happy little ring in her voice. 
“ But I mustn’t stay long,” she added, mindful 
of Miss Sapphira’s injunctions. “ Billy, you’ll 
come too, won’t you? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I would have asked him myself 
only I didn’t know what his name was,” apolo¬ 
gized the princess. 

“ I forgot,” said Marjory, making a cere¬ 
monious little bow. “ Billy’s name is Mr. 
William Barnard, and mine is just Marjory 
Huxton.” 

“ Well, mine is Miriam Boucher,” said the 
princess in her turn, as they followed each other 
under the barbed wire fence on the way to the 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


93 


street. “ And you can call me Miriam, and 
ITl call you Marjory, and—and-” 

“ Billy,” supplied Marjory, for she knew 
that the boy was too bashful to speak for him¬ 
self. 

“ There’s Aunt Mabel out in the garden wfHi 
John,” said the princess at length. “ Let’s go 
right over there where they are.” 

Mr. John had an extra twinkle in his eye 
when he caught sight of the three coming up 
the garden walk, but he did not explain it. 
The princess was the first to speak. 

‘‘ Aunt Mabel, this is Marjory Huxton and 
William—Billy, I mean, Barnard. Aunt 
Mabel, I want you to look at Marjory’s dress. 
I think it’s so nice, and I want some just like 
it—enough to last me all summer.” 

Poor Marjory cringed at having her humble 
little gown the subject under discussion, but it 
lost a little of its ugliness in her eyes when the 
princess approved of it. 

Miss Cauleigh seemed surprised at the re¬ 
quest and looked over Marjoiy’s dress care¬ 
fully to see what new adornment it possessed 
that it should attract her niece’s attention. 




94 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


When she saw that its sole virtue lay in the fact 
that the material was woven to withstand hard 
wear and prolonged use, she laughed. 

“ Why, yes, Miriam, I don’t see why you 
shouldn’t have some like it, if you want them,” 
she replied indulgently. 

The princess clapped her hands in delight. 
“ Oh, then we’ll seem like sisters! ” she exulted, 
and ran over to ]Mr. John, who was every one’s 
appreciative listener, to share her delight with 
him. 

Marjory’s heart almost stopped beating for 
a moment. How nearly Miriam had guessed 
the secret! And yet she was far from guessing 
both Billv’s and her determination to become a 
prince and princess. Marjory looked over at 
Billy, but Miss Cauleigh was watching her 
eager, excited face. Marjory felt that an ex¬ 
planation was due. 

“ I was just thinking how awfully queer and 
nice it is to have her want a dress like my old 
blue one,” she explained softly. “ But of 
course that’s just like a princess.” 

IMiss Cauleigh looked startled for a moment, 
and glanced over at Miriam and the gardener. 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


95 


A peculiarly loving and dreamy look came into 
her eyes as she did so. 

“John, John, what have you been telling 
them? ” she asked in a low voice, as if forget¬ 
ful of the children’s presence. But the old 
gardener had his back turned, besides being 
occupied with the princess, so that he did not 
hear. 

Marjory and Billy went home in a wonder¬ 
ing and happy frame of mind. Marjory felt 
as if she were treading on air at the happy 
thought that in a few days the princess, too, 
would put on a blue gingham dress like Mar¬ 
jory’s very own. With the events of the 
morning to dream over, the hour of quilt-sew¬ 
ing lost most of its tedium. 

Up in the big brick house on the hill, Miss 
Cauleigh’s thoughts were divided between 
directing the dressmaker about Miriam’s new 
frocks, and a vague wonder that concerned the 
original owner of the blue gingham dress. 

“ Where have I seen that child before? ” she 
kept asking herself. “ Maybe it’s my imagi¬ 
nation, but it’s certainly true that she has a 
familiar look.” 


CHAPTER XII 


On her way home from school one morning 
a few days later, Marjory went slowly up the 
walk leading to her home and looked at the old 
house ruefully. The almost impossible had 
happened when the princess wanted a dress 
just like Marjory’s faded blue one; but for her 
to wish to live in a shabby weather-beaten house 
such as Marjory must live in, could surely 
never be expected of even a real princess. A 
princess loved to have everything about her 
home beautiful. Marjory thought of the great 
stretches of lawn, too, about the princess’ home, 
and compared them to the tiny strip about Miss 
Sapphira’s house. The strip had just been 
freshly raked by the village man-of-all-work, 
it is true, but how much more satisfying it 
would be to keep the long grass cut, too, that 
would grow rampant at the back of the house, 
and on the outside of the lot next to and in the 
orchard, and to take away the rubbishy chip- 

pile and the ashes next to the wood-shed, so as 

96 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


97 


to bring the whole yard into one long level plain 
of elosely cut lawn. Miss Sapphira was not 
fond of outdoor work, but expended all her 
energies on keeping the interior of her dwelling 
in perfect order. When, once every two 
weeks, from the middle of April till fall, she 
hired the strip of lawn mowed, besides a good 
raking at the beginning and end of the season, 
she considered that she had done her duty so far 
as outdoor work was concerned. Marjory 
broached the subject to her on coming into the 
house, but she found Miss Sapphira’s views un¬ 
changed. 

“ Why, I think the lawn looks very nice just 
as it is,” she remarked crisply. “ Jacob has 
just cut it this morning. And as for the house 
—well, you ought to feel lucky that it was 
painted ten years ago. In all the forty years 
that mv father’s familv lived in this old place, 
he never had it painted but once, and that was 
the first time.” 

Feeling vagviely that Miss Sapphira meant 
this for a conclusive argument, Marjory turned 
to go up-stairs. But before she had reached 
the first landing, her aunt called her back. 



98 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


“ Marjory, I’m planning to go over to East- 
boro this afternoon to get some things. At 
first I thought I’d take you, but that would 
mean your missing school this afternoon and 
i don’t see any need of that. Now I sha’n’t be 
back till supper-time, so you can ask Billy and 
that new girl up on the hill to come over and 
stay a while, if you like—only if they come, be 
sure and make them wipe their feet,” she added 
as an afterthought. 

Marjory assented gladly to this proposition. 
She felt sure that the princess would be de¬ 
lighted to spend a few hours after school closed 
with her and Billy. 

As she was leaving for school, her aunt kissed 
her good-bye and surveyed her doubtfully. 
“ I don’t know but what I’d better take you 
with me yet. I don’t want the house to burn 
down while I’m gone! ” She laughed. “ But 
there! I’ve put the kitchen fire out and carried 
out the ashes; so there’s no danger of the 
chimney’s burning out. Be sure not to touch 
the matches while I’m gone.” 

Marjory promised to be careful. When 
school was over, she stopped on the way home 



THE REAL PRINCESS 


99 


to call to the princess, who was in the garden 
with Mr. John. Billy had already promised to 
meet them in the orchard. The princess, as 
Marjory had predicted, delightedly ran into 
the house for her aunt’s permission to go. 
When it was granted, the two girls started 
gleefully down the hill in the direction of 
Marjory’s house. 

“Oh, I’ve got such good news!” said the 
princess, putting her arm about her friend’s 
waist. “ I thought at first that Aunt Mabel 
simply wouldn’t let me start in now, because 
it’s so late, you know, but this noon she said 
yes. JMarjory, I’m going to school with you 
next week 1 ” 

“ To school—with me? ” repeated Marjory 
amazed. “ Why—why, I thought-” 

“ Thought what? ” demanded the princess. 
“ You and that boy named Billy do act so 
queerly! What did you think? ” 

“ Why, I thought that—maybe you’d study 
at home,” stammered Marjory lamely. 

“ Study at home! Of course not! There 
isn’t any one to teach me, for one thing, and 
anyway I want to go where there are a lot of 



100 


THE HEAL PEINCESS 


scholars and have some fun. .Why shouldn’t 
I go to school down-town just as much as you 
do?” she demanded again. ‘‘I thought you 
would be glad about it.” 

Why, I am—ever so glad,” Marjory 
hastened to say. Of course she was glad, but 
of all things she must not offend a princess. 
“ I think it’s the nicest-” 

“ Why, what’s Billy doing? ” exclaimed 
Miriam, as she gazed toward the roof of the 
little house. 

Sure enough, what was Billy doing? The 
sloping roof of Miss Sapphira’s little lean-to 
shed faced west, and this afternoon as the two 
girls approached the house, the full afternoon 
sunshine fell upon it. In plain view, strug¬ 
gling to gain a foothold on the roof from the 
big grape-vine that grew along the side of the 
shed, was Billy. At last, though hampered by 
his weak hip, he scrambled up on the roof, only 
to begin stamping in such a strange fashion as 
to alarm both of the beholders. The girls with 
one impulse ran into the Huxton yard and 
around to the shed. 

“Why, Billy!” gasped Marjory, as she 




The girls with one impulse ran into the Huxton yard. 

Page loo. 



























THE EEAL PKINCESS 101 

came around the corner. “ What on earth are 
you trying to do? ” 

But her question was needless, for the sharp 
little tongues of flame that met her as she 
reached the back of the shed sent her flying 
back for an instant. Marjory took in the 
situation without more questions. Billy’s 
efforts on the roof were of no avail because he 
had not been able to take up anything with 
which to quench the flames. Looking about 
her rapidly, Marjory’s glance fell on the pile 
of lawn clippings which the man had gathered 
from the mowing that morning. She picked 
up the basket that he had used, piled it full of 
the damp fragrant grass, and ran with it to 
Billy. The princess meanwhile looked on with 
white frightened face, but made no move from 
the place where Marjory had left her. 

“ Go for Mr. Baxter over there across the 
street! ” Marjory called to her, as she threw a 
rope under the basket’s handle with which Billy 
might pull it up. 

With the aid of the two men whom Mr. 
Baxter brought with him, the fire was soon 
quenched. But when it came to getting Billy 


102 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


down again, he looked so white and sick that 
for a moment Marjory thought he was going 
to faint. 

“ Come on, lad! ” encouraged Mr. Baxter, 
going up to the shed and holding out his arms 
to assist the boy. 

“ I’m afraid—I can’t,” almost moaned poor 
Billy, a flush of shame passing over his face 
for his weakness. “ It’s—it’s my hip. It 

feels-” and then he crumpled up into a 

little heap of unconsciousness. 

The kind neighbor brought a step-ladder and 
got him down as gently as he could. He 
carried the boy in his arms to his house, where 
he called a physician who, after Billy had re¬ 
covered consciousness, ordered the boy to be 
taken home to his own bed as quickly as pos¬ 
sible. 

It was this condition of affairs that Miss 
Sapphira came upon when she arrived home 
that evening. A group of neighbors had 
joined the two girls and the men, and all stood 
about surveying the damaged clapboards and 
wondering how the fire could have started. 

‘‘Well, Marjory!” was all Miss Sapphira 




THE REAL PRINCESS 


103 


could say when she saw the blackened boards. 
When she heard Mr. Baxter’s and Marjory’s 
stories of the fire, she gazed at the still smoking 
chip-pile in silence. Then her glance turned 
to the ash-pile near it. 

“ Well, for mercy sakes! ” she exclaimed at 
last. “Doesn’t that beat all! There I went 
to all the trouble of putting that kitchen fire 
out and taking out all the ashes, so the house 
wouldn’t burn down while I was away, and 
there I went and set fire to it myself! Next 
time maybe I won’t be so careful! ” 

“ Best be careful what you do with your live 
coals, ma’am,” advised Mr. Baxter, looking 
with scorn at the untidy pile of ashes as he 
turned to go home. 

“ And to think it was that little lame boy 
that discovered it! ” said Miss Sapphira in re¬ 
viewing the story of the episode. “ ’Twas 
lucky I didn’t take you with me, Marjory, or 
he’d never have come here. Was he badly 
hurt, child?” 

“ I don’t know. I guess they can’t tell yet. 
Aunt Sapphira,” returned Marjory. 

“ Well, he did a good deed for me. I don’t 


104 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


know, Marjory, but what I’ll have the house 
painted after all, when the shed is fixed again. 
You play out there a good deal and notice it 
more than I would, perhaps. Then maybe the 
damp grass in the orchard isn’t real good for 
Billy to sit on. I guess I’ll have Jacob cut it 
when he comes next.” 

Marjory went to bed with a whirl of 
thoughts in her head. The house was to be 
painted, the grass to be cut, poor little Billy 
was hurt and couldn’t get about again for a 
long time; and one other deed troubled her of 
which Marjory knew herself alone to be guilty, 
and was the last thing she thought of before 
she fell asleep. She had ordered the princess 
to do something! She, a common little girl, 
when it was the princess’ place to do the order¬ 
ing! Marjory bitterly regretted her imperi¬ 
ous command. The only consoling fact that 
she could think of was that her make-believe 
princesshood was becoming so real to her, that 
she had almost the viewpoint of a real princess, 
and assumed her privileges quite unconsciously. 


CHAPTER XIII 


It was a clear bright Saturday morning 
when Marjory awoke. Hurriedly she dressed, 
for it was seven o’clock—a late hour for her. 
She ran down-stairs, but not to the rather ex¬ 
pected rebuke, however, for Miss Sapphira was 
busily talking with some one out in the yard. 
This lady was nothing if not prompt in the 
execution of plans once determined upon; 
therefore at this early hour, she was talking 
over the question of painting the house with a 
man whom she had summoned for the purpose. 
She called to Marjory as she caught a glimpse 
of her through the open door, and let her have 
a vote in the choice of colors. At length it was 
decided that the house should be white with 
the blinds painted a dark green, like so many 
of the houses Marjory had seen on her way 
down the coast to this new home. The painter 
promised to have his men at work early Mon¬ 
day morning. Miss Sapphira surveyed the 
house critically as they walked back to the door. 

“ Well, it seems all foolishness to me yet, I 

105 


I 


106 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


must admit/’ she announced doubtfully. 
‘‘ This gray color isn’t at all ugly, to my mind. 
Don’t worry, though, child, I’m not going back 
on my promise,” she added as she caught a 
glimpse of Marjory’s face. 

Over at Billy’s house, the whole attention 
centered on one little up-stairs room. Billy 
had quite recovered himself after the night’s 
rest, and considered that he was as well as ever, 
for the pain that had made him so faint on the 
day before had completely subsided. He 
wanted to get up as usual, but this the doctor 
would not allow. 

Billy’s aunt, the tall pale-faced woman 
hovering about his bed so anxiously, was at 
last forced to meet the crisis which she had so 
long unwittingly avoided. Old Dr. Barnard, 
the boy’s uncle, who had died three years 
ago, had always contended that the ailment in 
Billy’s hip was merely a youthful weakness that 
the child would outgrow; therefore nothing had 
been done for him either in the doctor’s life¬ 
time or in the years that followed after his 
death. And Miss Martha, his sister, who 
loyally upheld her brother in every opinion and 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


107 


judgment, agreed with him in Billy’s case also 
—more as a matter of policy than because of 
any ideas of her own which she might hold on 
the subject. The new doctor, Dr. Clinton, 
however, whom Miss Barnard’s frightened 
conscience had forced her to call, on the day 
after the accident, was not at all of the same 
opinion. Very carefully that morning he ex¬ 
amined Billy’s hip, and what he found there 
put a peculiar sharpness into his glance as he 
surveyed the woman who had had the care of 
the boy through all these years. He looked 
casually about the house to see whether or not 
poverty could be the cause for the existing state 
of affairs. The comfortable furnishings which 
he found present throughout the house and the 
well-stocked library in the big room down¬ 
stairs, made him feel sure that this was not the 
reason why Billy’s hip had not been attended 
to long ago, and his eyes did not lose their 
steely quality nor his voice its gruffness, as he 
stopped to speak to the woman on his way out. 

“ Well, Doctor, what did you find? ” asked 
Billy’s aunt, reassured by the boy’s hopeful 
condition. “ I suppose he’s not hurt much? 


108 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


Just a bruise, perhaps. I can fix that with a 
little arnica, I think. We have such supplies 
in the house. I needn’t trouble you to 
call-” 

“It is very much more serious than you 
think, Madam,” returned the doctor crisply. 
“ The trouble in his hip was not incurable, but 
it should have been looked after long before 
this.” 

“ That’s what my brother always said. 
Doctor,” agreed Miss Barnard in a relieved 
tone. “ He always said that Billy would out¬ 
grow it, and be as well as ever when he was a 
man.” 

The doctor did not trust himself to speak 
for a moment, but stared at the carpet in 
silence. He could not grasp her attitude of 
unquestioning belief in her brother’s methods, 
when it affected a child in her own household as 
it did in this case. At length he cleared his 
throat. 

“ Your nephew will not outgrow it without 
medical attention, Miss Barnard,” he said with 
conviction. “ It will be necessary for him to 
go to the hospital in the city for six weeks, if 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 


109 


not longer, to hope for a complete cure, and 
even then we cannot be sure of it.’' 

“ To the hospital! ” repeated the lady, gazing 
in open consternation at the doctor. “ I under¬ 
stood you to say that his trouble was not in¬ 
curable.” 

“Just so; was not, I said. It has been 
neglected so long that the case is much more 
complicated than it would have been five years 
ago.” 

“ But why to the hospital? I’m sure I 
can-” 

“ He must have the attention of a specialist. 
His hip will have to be treated, and then put 
in a plaster cast,” explained Dr. Clinton 
wearily. “ It will be necessary for him to go 
to the hospital to have it done.” 

Miss Barnard stared unseeingly at the velvet 
rug beneath her feet. She was becoming dis¬ 
illusioned almost too rapidly for clear-headed¬ 
ness. But Dr. Clinton’s practice was of the 
best in the town, and she had no other choice 
but to follow his advice. She spoke at last. 

“ Of course I want to do what’s right, Dr. 
Clinton,” she began seriously. “ It comes as 



110 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


a great surprise to me, to have you speak this 
way about my nephew. William always said 
that he would outgrow it. I never got any 
crutches for the boy till after William died—^he 
wouldn’t let me. But to think-” 

“ Perhaps his ideas were somewhat old- 
fashioned,” suggested the doctor, speaking 
more kindly now that he perceived Miss 
Barnard’s true attitude. “ I will call again 
this afternoon and arrange the details for you. 
Good-morning,” and he passed out to his wait¬ 
ing automobile, thankful that he had been 
called before the case had become quite hope¬ 
less. 

Directly after breakfast and its duties were 
over, Marjory hurried over to Billy’s house. 
It was not a familiar place to her—in fact, 
this was the first time that she had ever been on 
its doorstep, for the old doctor’s sister had led 
a most retired and isolated life, and neither 
invited nor received visits from any one. She 
rarely appeared on the streets; so that Marjory 
was not quite sure whether this was Billy’s aunt 
or not, who appeared at the door in answer to 
her ring. 




CHAPTER XIV 


“ Can —could I see Billy’s aunt? ” she asked 
hesitatingly, almost cringing under the gaze of 
the piercing gray eyes of Miss Barnard, who 
stood before her. Then she was really startled, 
for no reply was forthcoming; only the gray 
eyes fixed themselves on Marjory’s face and 
held her gaze for a long moment with its own. 
A.t length the spell was broken. 

“ Goodness gracious! What a turn you 
gave me! You look just like—but there, she’s 
grown up years ago and dead besides. Come 
in, dear.” Miss Barnard turned hastily into 
the house again, holding her hand to her throat 
as if to calm its throbbing. “ Billy’s aunt, did 
vou sav? Well, I am Billv’s aunt. Sit down. 
I didn’t mean to frighten you, staring at you 
so—but dear me! The very image of Isa¬ 
bel -” She stopped and again fixed her 

eyes on the visitor’s face as if she could not bear 
to lose one single change of expression. 

Marjory felt bewildered. She had not the 

111 



112 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


slightest idea of what might be the cause of 
Miss Barnard’s strange behavior on her arrival. 
She knew only that this was Billy’s aunt, and 
that her true aspect was not in the least like 
that which she had imagined it to be. More¬ 
over, she had come to inquire about Billy, and 
she would do so, and then leave this strange 
house, darkened and shuttered in such an un¬ 
explainable fashion, like Aunt Sapphira’s front 
room. 

“ I came to find out about Billy,” she ex¬ 
plained hurriedly. ‘‘ He was over at our house 
when he got hurt, you know. Is he hurt very 
badly?” 

“ Billy? Oh, no, not very badly,” answered 
his aunt, brought back to the present by Mar¬ 
jory’s words. Then for almost the first time. 
Miss Barnard seemed to feel the need of and 
to appreciate companionship other than Billy’s, 
for she repeated without reservation what the 
new doctor had told her of Billy’s hip, and the 
views which the old doctor, her brother, had 
always held concerning it, and of her own part 
in the matter. She told it all, gazing past 
Marjory as if unconscious of her presence. 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


113 


Marjory listened in mute amazement. When 
the story was done, she gazed at Billy’s aunt 
with something of the same look in her eyes 
that had been in Dr. Clinton’s before he 
understood any but the bare facts of the situa¬ 
tion. 

“ He needed to have a doctor, all this time, 
and you didn’t get one? ” said Billy’s friend 
at last. “ Why, I think ”—^her voice rose, 
“ I think it’s—shameful! ” 

Billy’s aunt looked across at her for one long 
instant, and then the eyes that had been so keen 
and piercing but a moment before, were filled 
Avith slow unwilling tears. She disregarded 
them for a moment, then hid her face in her 
hands with a little sob. Marjory was beside 
her in an instant. 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean that! Truly I didn’t! ” 
she cried in remorse. “And I a princess, too! 
Hoav could I have said it! ” 

Miss Barnard lifted her head quickly. “ Oh, 
it’s true, it was shameful! But I thought that 
I was doing right. William always said the 
boy Avould come out all right.” 

“ Of course it wasn’t your fault, then,” re- 


114 


THE KEAL PEmCESS 


turned Marjoiy, trying to comfort her. ‘‘And 
you know, maybe Billy can be cured yet. Oh, 
please forget that I ever said anything about 
it! ” she finished miserably. 

“ It didn't matter, dear. What you said was 
true enough, and it doesn't do any good to cry 
about it. But whatever did you mean by your 
being a princess?" She raised her flushed 
face and smoothed her hair as she asked the 
question. 

Marjory’s cheeks burned, but her secret was 
out. “ Oh, I just pretend I'm a princess. It 
makes hard things go easier, sometimes. I'm 

not really one, you know, like-" she started 

to add, but Billy's impatient voice sounded 
from up-stairs. 

“ Is that you, Marjory? Why don't you 
come up? ’’ 

“ So you are the Marjory he's always talking 
about! He’s been asking for you ever since he 
woke up,’’ said Miss Barnard. “ Come up 
with me. I must tell him what the doctor 
said.” 

When Billy heard the story that had just 
been repeated to Marjory—what the doctor, 



THE KEAL PEINCESS 


115 


his uncle, had thought about his hip, what 
Aunt Martha, trusting in her brother’s judg¬ 
ment at all times, believed concerning it, and 
finally, what Dr. Clinton thought could be done 
for it, after five years of neglect, that Billy 
might possibly have the full use of his limb 
for the first time since he could remember—one 
fact only seemed to fix itself in the boy’s mind 
—the remote possibility that some day he might 
be free to walk without crutches. 

“ Did the doctor say that? Are you sure? ” 
he kept repeating, as if he could not believe his 
ears. 

Miss Barnard left them, to busy herself with 
some mind-engrossing work. She could not 
bear to think that by reason of her own care¬ 
lessness and neglect Billy might be robbed of 
a whole lifetime of the freedom of limb that is 
every normal boy’s right. This phase of the 
situation did not even suggest itself to Billy. 
He was so busy conjuring up visions of him¬ 
self without the hated crutches, that he had no 
room for regrets for what had gone before. 

“ How long did the doctor say I’d have to 
lie still? ” he asked Marjory, with a little gleam 


116 


THE KEAL PEI:NCESS 


of satisfaction already appearing in place of the 
resigned expression that he had worn whenever 
he thought about his lameness. 

“ Six or seven weeks, anyway, but that won’t 
be so bad when you think of what’s coming 
after it,” encouraged Marjory. 

“ I’ll tell you! ” exclaimed Billy enthusiasti¬ 
cally. “ I’ll pretend that I broke my leg play¬ 
ing football! They do have to stay in bed a 
long time when they do that, you know. That 
won’t make it seem half so bad,” and he beamed 
at the thought of this doubtful consolation. At 
this point Marjory had to leave him, for there 
were duties at home to which she was expected 
to attend. 

It was with an unaccountable lump in her 
throat that she bade him good-bye the next 
morning, when he climbed into the taxicab 
beside his aunt ready for his trip to the city. 
He waved his crutch gayly at her as they 
started away. 

On Monday, Marjory and the princess, who 
had been eagerly interested in Billy’s welfare 
ever since the fire, walked slowly to school to¬ 
gether. The excitement in which the three had 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 117 

shared the past few days had not dimmed the 
glamor of royalty about the princess for Mar¬ 
jory one bit, but for some reason she held her 
peace about it as far as the rest of her school¬ 
mates were concerned. Perhaps if they knew 
that Miriam was a real princess, they would 
guess that Marjory was trying to be one also, 
and she was reluctant to have them do that. 
She was not quite sure of herself yet; it was, as 
Billy had hinted before the real princess came, 
not an easy task for an every-day little girl to 
come up to a princess’ standard. It was a 
curious fact, however, that with all her faults, 
Miriam Boucher seemed to be very well satis¬ 
fied with her new friend. 


CHAPTER XV 


No one could have blamed Marjory this 
morning for looking at the princess with admir¬ 
ing glances; for the first of the blue dresses 
which were being made after Marjory’s model 
had been finished on the Saturday before, and 
now the princess was wearing it. So the two 
little friends, each clad in blue gingham, passed 
into school together. The princess stopped to 
lay on the teacher’s desk a fragrant rose that 
Mr. John had picked for her that morning. 

Miss Borden looked up and smiled. She 
was a pretty, serious-faced young woman whom 
her scholars loved not only for her attractive¬ 
ness, but for her belief in them all. As she 
perceived the blue dresses of similar pattern 
and looked at the girls’ faces above them, her 
eyes widened and a look of surprise came into 
her face. 

“ Why, your dresses are almost alike, aren’t 
thejT'? One would almost think you two were 

sisters,” she said, smiling again. 

118 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


119 


Marjory’s cheeks grew pink. “We are sis¬ 
ters—in a way,” she ventured shyly. 

“You really are? ” questioned the teacher, 
not understanding. The princess was looking 
curious, too, at the note of seriousness in Mar¬ 
jory’s voice. 

“ Oh, just pretend-sisters, I mean,” she 
amended hastily. How could they know that 
she was trying to be like a real princess? 

There was a little delay while Miriam an¬ 
swered the proper questions necessary for her 
entrance into the school. Then it was time for 
the morning lessons to begin, and she and Mar¬ 
jory took their seats. 

The arithmetic lesson was especially trouble¬ 
some that morning; and Marjory’s head was so 
full of the occurrences of the last few days that 
it was hard for her to give her attention to the 
matter in hand. One problem in fractions 
eluded her especially in solving. ‘ It would not 
come out right for her when she was sent to put 
it on the blackboard. Miss Borden perceived 
her difficulty, and smiled patiently. 

“ It doesn’t come out right yet, does it, 
Marjory?” she said. “AYell, you may leave 


120 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


it now, and if you like, well go over it together 
this noon after school. Ill be glad to help any 
of you that have had trouble with your prob¬ 
lems at that time.” 

The princess and one or two other of the 
pupils waited after school and had their diffi¬ 
culties explained. Marjory’s problem came 
last, and Miriam waited until Miss Borden had 
gone through it with her. Then the three 
started for home together. 

“ I’ll leave the door unlocked, as the janitor 
will be at work,” said Miss Borden, putting 
back into her hand-bag the key to the school¬ 
room door which she had absent-mindedly 
taken out. 

Oh, I left my handkerchief in my desk! ” 
exclaimed Marjory, as they were going down 
the steps. “ I won’t be a minute. You can 
walk on, and I’ll catch up with you.” 

She found the janitor in full possession when 
she reached the schoolroom, but secured the 
missing handkerchief and hurried after the two 
ahead of her, thinking nothing of the incident 
until some time later, when she must tearfully 
recall it. 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 121 

For after school that afternoon Miss Borden 
called Marjory to her desk with a strange ex¬ 
pression on her face. 

“ Marjory, I find that my arithmetic answer- 
book is missing. I am quite certain that I left 
it on my desk this noon after we went over 
those problems, but it isn’t there. Have you 
seen anything of it? ” 

Marjory felt reassured. She had been led 
to think from the look on her teacher’s face that 
something very serious was the matter. 

“No, I haven’t seen it,” she answered in a 
matter-of-fact voice. 

Miss Borden looked more worried than ever. 
“ Where can it be? ” she said as if thinking 
aloud. “ None of the other children that were 
here know what the book even looks like.” She 
scanned the open face before her sharply. 
“ Marjory,” she said again in a low voice, “ are 
you very sure that you have not seen the book? 
You were the last person seen in this room this 
noon.” 

Marjory’s color rose, but her gaze was steady 
and unflinching when she answered. Her 
word—the word of a princess—^was doubted! 


122 


THE KEAL PEmCESS 


She was not a real princess like Miriam—^so of 
course they could not be sure that what she said 
was tme. She sank down into a seat and cov¬ 
ered her face with her hands. 

Miss Borden’s expression was not simply 
worried now—it was frightened. Could it be 
possible that the child had the book after all? 
She had not, after seeing Marjory’s open 
laughing face that afternoon, believed her 
capable of a deception, much less an untruth. 

“ Tell me about it, dear,” she urged at last, 
putting an arm about the shaking shoulders. 
“ I don’t understand.” 

“ You—you don’t believe me—because I’m 
not a—a real princess! ” 

“ What? ” Miss Borden gazed in open con¬ 
sternation at the sorry little figure. 

“ If I were a real one, like Miriam,” went on 
Marjory brokenly, “ then you would believe 
me, but now you won’t.” .The tone was de¬ 
spairing but full of conviction. Naturally, 
though. Miss Borden could not yet understand 
what Marjory meant. 

“ Miriam? And you not a real princess? I 
don’t understand, Marjory,” she said wearily 



THE EEAL PRINCESS 


123 


at length. “ Do you suppose you could ex¬ 
plain about it, and then maybe we could under¬ 
stand each other better/’ 

Marjory, willing to tell anything that was 
the truth, poured out the whole story, even 
explaining about Billy’s accident. When she 
had almost finished, there was a loud rap at the 
door at which they both looked up. Miss 
Borden rose to open it. 

“ Well, dear, I know you didn’t take the 
book. I believe you, now,” she said, smiling 
back at Marjory’s tear-stained face before she 
opened the door. 

‘‘ I was going to clean the blackboards. Any 
objections to me cornin’ in now? ” It was the 
janitor, cleaning-cloths and pail in hand. His 
kindly eyes rested on Marjory the minute he 
entered the room. The two were good friends, 
and he was surprised to find the little girl kept 
after school in apparent disgrace. 

“ What’s the matter with the kiddie? ” he 
asked sympathetically. 

Miss Borden hesitated; then a thought 
flashed across her mind. The janitor was in 
the room when Marjory had left it that noon. 


124 THE KEAL PEmCESS 

Perhaps he could throw some light on the situa¬ 
tion. 

‘‘ It^s my answer-book/’ she explained hur¬ 
riedly. “ I left it in the room this noon, and 
it’s gone; and Marjory came back alone the 
last thing after school was out this forenoon. 
Now I know that she hasn’t it, though, but I 
can’t think-” 

The janitor was across the front of the room 
in an instant and peered down into an empty 
desk as if searching for something. He was 
successful, for he pulled out and handed to the 
teacher—the missing answer-book! IMiss Bor¬ 
den received it with an exclamation of delight. 

“ Great Plalifax! ” exclaimed the big man, 
grinning ruefully. “ To think I made ye all 
this fuss! I saw that book l^dn’ there on that 
front desk this noon, and so, thinks I, why, 
some one’s left it there, and I’ll just shove it in 
this desk out of the dust. It’s a shame, lass! ” 
he added, turning toward Marjory. “ Next 
time I’ll be keepin’ my meddlesome fingers to 
meself! ” 

Marjory went home in a vastly comforted 
and happy state of mind, for Miss Borden had 



THE EEAL PEmCESS 


125 


nothing but j)raise for her resolution to be like 
a real princess, though she did seem to be 
strangely incredulous of Marjory’s assertion 
that Miriam was such. 

There was a letter for Marjory in the mail 
one day that added greatly to her happi¬ 
ness. It was from Billy, and ran, in part, thus; 

I had a bad time of it yesterday—^my leg 
ached something fierce, and they told me I just 
had to lie still. First I thought I couldn’t; 
then I remembered Avhat you said about 
princes. Ever since, I’ve been using my mind 
for my traveling-cloak, just as you said to do. 
It helps lots, especially as I’ve got a jim-dandy 
nurse. She’s a corker—she’s writing this for 
me, and didn’t want to put that last in, but I 
made her. I s’pose you don’t find much to do, 
being a princess, do you? But I can tell you 
being a prince keeps me busy.” 

Marjory wrote him six pages about the 
“ much to do ” subject, in such a way that Billy 
could surely never make such an assertion 
truthfully again; and, if she could have looked 
ahead, she might have found that she could 
write many additional pages on the same sub¬ 
ject during the weeks that followed. 



CHAPTER XVI 


It was well for Marjory that Billy’s letter 
did not tell the whole story of his stay thus 
far in the hospital. Of all the events in the 
period summed up in his letter as a “ bad time,” 
even he himself was not fully aware. He had 
known from the time that he was carried up 
and up in an elevator on the queer flat thing 
he heard them call a stretcher, that an experi¬ 
ence far from pleasant was in store for him. 
The examination on the dav before had been 
hard enough, in spite of the cheery, jovial little 
blond doctor who made it, pelting his patient 
with funny sayings an3 jokes all the while. 
The siege the next day was worse, but happily 
the boy was put to sleep for a part of it. Billy 
was by nature cheerful; and no one was more 
eager than he that he should come to this place 
and have his bothersome weakness “ fixed ”; 
but even the staunchest soul quails after an ex¬ 
tended time of suffering. If Marjory could 
have seen the boy on the fourth day of his stay 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


127 


in the hospital, she might well have wondered 
if another boy who looked like Billy had 
changed places with him. Poor Billy had be¬ 
come a sick bundle of nerves, wholly unstrung 
and sunk in a well of helpless tears. When 
the nurse who had been put in charge of him 
came to his room with his meals, he shrank 
away from her, moaning piteously and weep¬ 
ing in abject terror. At these times, it was 
almost as if Billy were not himself. 

When he had for the third time refused to 
touch the food proffered to him, and had wrig¬ 
gled about so wildly that he was in immediate 
danger of serious injury to the hip, now held 
firm in a plaster vise. Miss Turner fled down¬ 
stairs to seek advice from one of her com¬ 
panions whom she had in mind. Billy’s nurse 
was a tall, spare woman, whose spotless white 
uniform did not soften the grim and tired lines 
of her face. Although her reddish hair, wound 
in a thick coil around her head, was untouched 
by a single thread of gray, the face beneath 
told that she could no longer be called young. 
Deep furrows disfigured her forehead, her lips 
were set in a thin determined line, and her keen 


128 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


gray eyes looked out sharply from under 
shaggy brows. Billy had turned away from 
her at the first meeting. Miss Turner, who 
was not gifted in understanding children, 
nevertheless proceeded to carry out the details 
of her duty, with the disastrous results already 
described. 

“ I can’t see what ails the child,” she told the 
other nurse, whom she found in the j)rescrip- 
tion-room below, “ He’s weak and tired, of 
course, and probably his leg hurts from being in 
the cast, but that doesn’t explain his yelling 
and screeching like mad. I never had a child 
act like this. They’re usually pretty good.” 

The other nurse turned from the shelf, where 
she was compounding some medicine, to look 
at her visitor. 

‘‘Hasn’t he eaten anything to-day?” she 
asked, her trim figure silhouetted against the 
window as she held up a measuring phial to the 
light. 

“No, that’s the worst of it,” responded Miss 
Turner soberly. It gave her a pang to feel 
that she must ask advice from a younger nurse 
than herself, especially one less experienced 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 129 

than she. But Miss Purcell was well known 
among her companions for having a “ way ” 
with children; and the older nurse was at her 
wits’ end about dealing with Billy. 

“ Where did you leave his tray? ” asked Miss 
Purcell quickly, her brown eyes glancing about 
the shelves which lined the room. She came 
up only to Miss Turner’s shoulder, but her 
erect bearing and active manner gave her the 
pretty dignity which her short stature might 
have denied her. 

“ It’s on the table in his room,” said the other 
in a relieved tone. “ If you would try, I’d be 
very much obliged to you.” 

She followed Miss Purcell up the stone steps 
again, their rubber heels noiseless on the felt 
floor runner. 

Billy’s bed was placed so that he could easily 
see whoever entered the room. When she had 
arrived at the doorway. Miss Purcell turned 
and motioned to her companion that she would 
prefer to enter the room alone. 

“ Will you see that Number 291 is answered 
if she rings ? ” she asked. 

Miss Turner nodded willing affirmation. 


130 THE'^EEAL PEmCESS 

Billy’s door closed noiselessly after the younger 
nurse. 

The boy was huddled in a disconsolate heap 
among the pillows placed about him. As he 
eagerly turned to look when the nurse entered, 
traces of tear-drops still showed themselves 
upon his face, and his expression bore witness 
to a state of utter wretchedness. Not a word 
did he say, however, at the approach of the 
newcomer. 

“ Well, how’s the football leg to-day? ” in¬ 
quired Miss Purcell cheerily, going directly up 
to the bed. 

Billy stared. His eyes blinked through their 
veil of tear-drops. His sobbing breaths ceased. 

“ How—how did you know? ” he stammered 
after a moment in a weak, far-awav voice. 

“ Oh-” The new nurse, whose curlv 

brown hair seemed to smile along with the 
crinkles at the corners of her eyes, laughed into 
the solemn face before her. “ I had a little 
cousin who had a leg like yours that wouldn’t 
work, and he pretended that he had kicked a 
football so high that he threw his leg out of 
joint! ” 



THE EEAL PRINCESS 


131 


An answering crinkle next to Billy’s eyes 
appeared in another instant, and then they 
were laughing together over the ridiculousness 
of the idea. That was a good beginning, the 
nurse thought. 

“ He’s all well now, and can run and jump 
as well as any boy,” went on Miss Purcell, sit¬ 
ting down on the chair beside the bed. “ I’ll 
have to write to him about you—I guess you 
could talk things over pretty well together. 
He’s just about your age, too.” 

“ Can he play football? ” inquired Billy, still 
in that weak strange voice that sounded so little 
like his own. 

Miss Purcell nodded, but hastened to add, 
“ Of course he couldn’t right away. He was 
here several years ago, you know; But I think 
he is free to play what he likes, now that he’s 
altogether over the trouble.” 

“ I want to play fullback,” said Billy, with 
the'first sign of enthusiasm he had shown since 
his hip was put into the cast. ‘‘ Don’t you 
think that would be a lot of fun? ” 

Miss Purcell laughed and got up to give 
one of the pillows a freshening touch. She 



132 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


drew the tangled bedclothes into smooth 
straight lines. 

‘‘ Well, maybe,” she said. ‘‘ Doesn’t the 
thought of playing football make you 
hungry? ” she asked suddenly. ‘‘ It does me. 
My, I remember the ‘ hot dog ’ sandwiches and 
peanuts we girls at school used to sell on the 
field whenever there was a big game! Such 
hungry crowds you never saw.” 

“ Did you use to go to all the games? ” he 
questioned, his eyes wide and shining. 

She nodded, her hand on the white knob of 
the bed-post. There was still a question on her 
lips. 

Billy made a gesture as if to straighten 
himself in bed. He winced with the sharp 
pain; but the idea which they had been discuss¬ 
ing, the fulfilling of the dream of his waking 
hours, did not leave him. 

“ Maybe I could eat a little something,” he 
said dubiously. 

The meal he made was a start, if it was not 
one to support a hungry football player. As 
Miss Purcell rose to carry off the tray, he 
looked up anxiously. 


THE REAL PRINCESS 133 

“ When are you coming again? ” he asked 
her, a note of dissatisfaction in his voice. 

“ Oh, ’most any time,” she answered him 
brightly. You must do the best you can for 
Miss Turner, though, because I’m on duty in 
another room.” She turned toward the door, 
the tray in her hands. 

Billy, seeing this new star of hope fast sink¬ 
ing on his horizon, held out a detaining hand. 

“ There’s something else,” he called after 
her. Smilingly the nurse waited at the door 
for his question. 

“ Well? ” she asked. 

‘‘ How much does kicking a goal after a 
touchdown count? ” came from the bed. 

Miss Purcell’s knowledge of modern foot¬ 
ball was greater than Aunt Martha’s, for quick 
as a flash she answered, ‘‘ Just one point, I 
think.” 

Then she left him. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Billy slept for the first time that night, 
tired out by the pain and struggle of the day, 
and relaxed and refreshed by the calm which 
followed Miss PurcelFs visit. Timorously his 
regular nurse peeped in upon him at intervals 
during the evening, and breathed a sigh of re¬ 
lief to see that he was sleeping. Another per¬ 
son was on night duty; so her vigil relaxed 
during the hours that followed. Early in the 
morning, however, Miss Turner again entered 
his room, intending to get him ready for break¬ 
fast. 

Billy’s horror-stricken eyes as he beheld her 
at the door made her heart sink. 

“ Ready for breakfast? ” she asked in as 
cheerful a tone as she could command. 

Billy turned his face to the blank wall on 
the other side of the bed. 

“ Where’s the football girl? ” came at length 
in a weak small voice. Evidently Billy had 

not yet got his courage up for the day. 

134 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


135 


Full of good intentions, Miss Turner was 
bustling about the room putting things to 
rights. It was natural that she should make 
no answer to the boy’s question, for she never 
thought of Miss Purcell as the “ football girl.” 

Billy repeated his query, this time with a 
little more emphasis, still keeping his face to the 
wall. It seemed to him that he had never seen 
a human visage so homely as the worn one of 
his present nurse. 

She answered him carelessly as if in response 
to a child’s whim. 

“ I don’t know anybody by that name, 
William,” she said, “ and anyway, no one is in 
the building but the nurses and assistants. 
Visitors aren’t allowed until afternoon. Now 
come, I’m going to wash your face ready for 
breakfast.” She brought a basin of warm 
water and some towels to the bedside, and 
wrung out a wash-cloth in the water. 

Billy’s 

to him that he could not look into that awful, 
thin, furrowed face, much less let one of the 
thin hands touch him. If Billy had been even 
in his usual degree of health, he could have 


only answer was a moan. It seemed 


136 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


looked at the matter in a far more philosophical 
manner; but the strangeness of his new sur¬ 
roundings, the harrowing experiences through 
which he had passed recently, together with the 
fact that he was little used to meeting strangers 
whether attractive or the opposite, made his 
aversion to the nurse’s ministrations seem great 
enough to make him forget everything else at 
the moment. As he heard the swish of the 
cloth in the water and realized the nearness of 
the calamity, he moaned again, and helplessly 
began to wriggle and struggle against the grip 
of the cast which held him prisoner. 

Innocent though she was of her failings as 
a nurse for Billy, Miss Turner nevertheless 
saw the dangers in her remaining longer in the 
room. 

“ There, there!” she exclaimed in a fright¬ 
ened tone. ‘‘ I’ll go and get Miss Purcell 
right away. Maybe she can get you the person 
you want to see.” And dropping her wash¬ 
cloth, she hurriedly left the room in search of 
the ministering angel. 

“ It’s plain that I can’t keep the case,” she 
told Miss Purcell as together they climbed the 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


137 


stairs again and went along the upper hall 
toward Billy’s room. “ I’ll ask Dr. Fitch if 
something can’t be done about it.” 

“ He’s a strange child, with queer fancies,” 
said her companion, “ but perhaps it would be 
better to humor them just at first, anyway. 
The poor little chap should have had attention 
long ago, that’s clear. His nerves are almost 
a wreck from trying to bear up under that 
lame hip for such a long time. I wonder— 
how would it do if we were to exchange cases, 
—^with the doctor’s permission, of course? 
Mrs. Rossiter isn’t so very sick—in fact, she is 
going home in a week or two. She’s merely 
staying on because she can afford to, and she 
rather enjoys being fussed over, you know.” 

“ I’ve heard that she has as bad tantrums as 
this boy ever had,” returned the other, ‘‘ but it 
makes little difference to me, so long as the 
patient isn’t harmed in either case. I’d be 
perfectly willing and glad to exchange with 
you. Suppose we ask the doctor when he 
comes in! ” 

The sun again peeped out of the clouds for 
Billy when Miss Purcell appeared at his door. 



138 


THE KEAL PEmCESS 


The hip had ached badly from the moment he 
woke up, and it was easy to see that the boy 
had all he could do to bear the pain quietly. 
Under cover of more talk about the art of foot¬ 
ball, Miss Purcell succeeded in getting him to 
eat a better breakfast than even she herself had 
hoped he would. He begged so hard for her 
to stay, when she got up to carry away the 
tray, that she finally consented, although she 
ran the risk of breaking one of the hospital 
rules bv so doing. The institution was a small 
city one, however, and the nurses were ac¬ 
customed to help each other out on various oc¬ 
casions. When the doctor came, the matter 
was to be settled once for all. 

Dr. Fitch, the jolly little blond physician 
who had made the preliminary examination of 
Billy’s hip, appeared at his usual time of ten 
o’clock, and in due course made a careful note 
of Billy’s condition. Miss Turner herself met 
him in the hall as he came out of Billv’s room, 
and gave him an account of her experience 
with the boy on the evening before and at the 
breakfast hour. She repeated the proposal 
which had been discussed between Miss Purcell 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


139 


and herself, and asked his permission to make 
the change. 

The little man looked at her gravely while 
she was talking. He nodded his head emphat¬ 
ically as she finished. 

“ They do get that way sometimes,” he said, 
“ and we can’t hope for progress under those 
circumstances. By all means, trade patients 
if you are both willing. You will need,” he 
added with a twinkle in his eye, “ more 
‘ patience ’ than medicine in Mrs. Rossiter’s 
case.” 

Miss Turner straightened her tall thin figure 
and looked more serious than ever. “ No one 
can say yet. Doctor, that I ever lost patience 
with a sick person,” she said with dignity. 

“ No, no,” he returned, not trying to press 
his joke further. 

Thus it came about that Miss Purcell def¬ 
initely took charge of Billy’s case, while Miss 
Turner was established in the bright, expensive 
room where rich old Mrs. Rossiter reigned in 
her querulous way. For Billy, despite his 
pain, it was an afternoon of delight. When 
football seemed to afford no more material for 


140 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


comment and discussion, he and his nurse 
turned to the subject of her little cousin, who 
had also been laid up in a hospital in a plaster 
cast like Billy’s. It was natural after this 
that Miss Purcell should be induced to cast 
about in her mind to remember all the little 
boys who had come to the hospital for precisely 
this treatment. There were not so many as 
Billy, though he did not wish them any bad 
luck, would have liked. But he had one of his 
own to mention. 

“ The Little Lame Prince,” he said, leaning 
back on his pillows and watching his nurse as 
she bent over a small strip of crocheting, “ his 
hip was lame, too. Do you suppose he had to 
go to a hospital and be put into a plaster cast 
like mine? ” 

His companion shook her pretty white- 
capped head without looking up. Poor 
child—^no, I’m afraid not,” she answered. 
“ He was made a prisoner away in the wilder¬ 
ness on purpose, so that he should not live to 
grow up, or at least to gi’ow strong enough to 
claim his rights as a king.” 

“ Oh, but he used his traveling-cloak! ” 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 141 

cried Billy, with the ring of his old voice in his 
tone for the first time. 

“ So he did,” agreed Miss Purcell, smiling 
at his eagerness. “ Perhaps you can, too, 
when some of these days begin to seem pretty 
long to you.” 

“ Will you go with me? Can we go travel¬ 
ing together on it, all over the world? ” 

She was a good playfellow, this small ener¬ 
getic figure in the starched white uniform. 
Gladly she agreed to accompany him wherever 
he cared to direct the magic cloak. 

It was not long after this happier turn of 
affairs took place that, at the boy’s request, she 
procured the proper materials, and wrote for 
him that first letter to Marjory. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


If Billv and the two nurses were contented 
with the new arrangement, there was one per¬ 
son who was not. Old Mrs. Rossiter, who was 
now sitting up by her window for the greater 
part of the day, accepted Miss Turner’s minis¬ 
trations quite peaceably for the first two hours 
of her service. But when the tall gaunt nurse 
continued to come in and out of her room, quite 
as if she belonged there, the old lady felt that 
some explanation was due. 

“Where’s Miss Purcell?” she asked sud¬ 
denly from out of the depths of her pillows. 
Her keen black eyes followed every movement 
of the nurse about the room. 

“ She is at the other end of the hall,” 
answered the nurse simply. She continued in 
her operations of getting the little table ready 
for the invalid’s supper. 

“ Tell her I want to see her,” came imperi¬ 
ously from the gray-haired patient, nodding 
her head vigorously to lend emphasis to her 
command. 


142 


THE BEAL PRINCESS 


143 


“ She can’t come just now,” was the answer. 

“ Did you hear what I said? Tell—her—I 
—^want—to—see—her.” Again the emphatic 
nods accompanied the words. Mrs. Rossiter 
leaned forward from her pillows. She was not 
used to having her commands disregarded. 
Her reputation for “ tantrums ” was well 
known in the hospital. 

Miss Turner went over to the window and 
stood looking down at the patient. 

“ Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. 
Rossiter? ” she asked. 

The old black eyes blazed up into the gray 
ones. “ Do! ” snorted the patient indignantly. 
‘‘Yes, indeed. What have I been telling you? 
Tell Miss Purcell I want to see her! ” 

The nurse hesitated, and then decided to 
speak frankly. In a few words Mrs. Rossiter 
was made acquainted with the exchange of 
duties made by the two nurses. Naturally 
enough. Miss Turner did not dwell at length 
on the reasons for her failure in Billy’s case, 
but said merely that it was a peculiar one, and 
Miss Purcell had been especially requested by 
the doctor to take it over. 


144 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


“ But she was my nurse! I’d employed her. 
Why, this is ridiculous! She can’t leave me 
like that, when I have employed her. Call 
her to me at once! ” 

“ It’s a very important case, Mrs. Rossiter. 
It requires constant attention these first few 
days. I don’t believe that Miss Purcell would 
be free to come.” 

“ Ridiculous! Why, she is my nurse, get¬ 
ting good money for taking care of me. The 
idea! Call her to me at once. She must come. 
I will report the whole lot of you to the head 
nurse and have you all discharged. Call her 
to me at once! ” The ' old head nodded so 
violently that the two little pigtails of braided 
hair, done up in hospital fashion, jerked and 
leaped about on their owner’s shoulders. Mrs. 
Rossiter had tight hold of the wooden arms of 
her rocking-chair and seemed on the point of 
rising to do her own bidding. For a person 
who was ill enough to require care in a hospital, 
she displayed a remarkable amount of energy. 
Miss Turner was aware of a fleeting thought 
that the exercise would do her good; and yet 
the other patients must not be disturbed, as 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


145 


they would surely be, if the old lady succeeded 
in reaching the hall. The nurse leaned over 
her and spoke quietly. 

“ Mrs. Rossiter, I will do as you say in just 
a minute, but first I want to tell you something 
that you may need to know. This little boy is 
sick in a peculiar way or I should have stayed 
with him myself. He is taking treatment for 
hip trouble that might have been cured in two 
weeks’ time if it had been taken early enough. 
His relatives followed the orders of a doctor 
who didn’t know his business, or at least didn’t 
keep up with it, and the boy was left to out¬ 
grow the difficulty. As a result, his nerves are 
in a very serious state—just as if you or I, 
Mrs. Rossiter, were to go about with a broken 
leg, suffering from it intensely all the while but 
neglecting to call a doctor, hoping that when 
we grew older the matter would take care of 
itself.” 

The old lady had sunk back into her pillows, 
and as the nurse continued her explanation of 
Billy’s case, let her eyes wander out the long 
window, glancing nervously at one object and 
then another. It was clear that she was in no 



146 THE EEAL PKINCESS 

mood to let a mere statement of the circum¬ 
stances change her mind in this matter. 
Nevertheless, she listened intently to what the 
nurse said. 

“ The hip can be fixed, however, and it is in 
a cast now, where it will remain for six weeks 
at the least, with intervals between for rubbing 
and massage, of course. The point is, the 
child’s whole system is so overwrought and 
used up, that his life is in danger if every 
circumstance is not made as easy as possible 
for him. I will tell you the truth and say that 
he took a dislike to me from the very first. It 
is a fact that even little things like that matter 
a great deal in his case. Miss Purcell has had 
many children’s cases and knows how to deal 
with them. Besides that,” she added wistfully, 
“ she is prettier and fresher-looking than I am, 
and children love her.” 

Mrs. Rossiter lifted a hand to interrupt 
again, but Miss Turner laid it gently but firmly 
back again upon the arm of the chair. 

“ Please,” she said softly, “ please let me 
finish, and then I will try to do what you wish 
in every way it is possible. I wish to say, Mrs. 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


147 


Rossiter, that I am here to do anything for you 
that Miss Purcell has done or could do, and I 
am ready to take especial pains to please you 
because I know that you liked to have Miss 
Purcell near you so much.” 

The old lady grimaced a little. Perhaps the 
memory of the times when her sharp complaints 
had followed the younger nurse about the 
room filled her mind for an instant. At any 
rate, this time she did not even offer to inter¬ 
rupt. 

“ Perhaps after a week or so-” Miss 

Turner began, softening a little at achieving 
even this measure of victory. Then she re¬ 
membered that she might not be able to keep 
such a promise. “ The little boy will need her 
for some time,” she said instead of finishing her 
sentence. Then she was silent. She had used 
up all her powers of persuasion. She knew of 
nothing more that she could say. 

Mrs. Rossiter, her wrinkled cheeks still pink 
from her strong speech a few moments before, 
turned away from the window and looked up at 
the nurse with her sharp old eyes. Seeing the 
look. Miss Turner felt that she had failed. 



148 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


“ Will you please,’’ said the old lady with 
slow distinctness, “ call Miss Purcell to me—^as 
soon as it is convenient for her to come? ” 

It was about half an hour afterward, after 
Mrs. Rossiter had had her supper and was 
safely guided into her bed for the night, that 
Billy’s “ football girl ” found her way to the 
old lady’s room. She came upon her late 
charge sitting up straight against her pillows, 
looking wide-eyed direct^ ahead of her. She 
turned a little as the nurse came in. 

“ This that the thin nurse has been telling 
me,” she said immediately without greetings, 
“ is this all true? ” 

With some questioning to find out what 
“ this ” had been. Miss Purcell at last nodded 
affirmation. She took the chance also to ex¬ 
plain, along with the seriousness of the boy’s 
case, the improvement he had been making in 
the last twelve hours. 

“ Why,” she finished, “ the child’s even tak¬ 
ing trips on a fairy traveling-cloak! He has 
it all planned out how he is going to visit South 
America to-morrow.” 

Mrs. Rossiter had never read about the 



THE KEAL PKINCESS 


149 


Little Lame Prince, and the nurse proceeded 
to give her a short version of the story. She 
listened quietly, as she had done during Miss 
Turner’s explanation, but her black eyes 
darted quickly about the room the while. Miss 
Purcell rose to go, anxious for fear even now 
the old lady would continue her protest at the 
new state of affairs. She did turn on her pil¬ 
lows as the nurse started away, and stretched 
out an imperious hand. She was pointing to¬ 
ward the dresser which stood near by. 

Wordless, Miss Purcell followed directions. 
Mrs. Rossiter was a born commander. If she 
had lived in feudal times and had been a man, 
she would surely have been put into command, 
by the king, of a gallant and noble troop of 
soldiers. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Marjory had made many friends in her 
room at school in the time she had been living 
in the little town; and because Miriam and she 
came to school together from the very first day 
that Miriam attended, it was but natural that 
Miriam should find the entrance to Marjory’s 
circle of friends an easy one. Making friends 
in this way was by no means, however, a sure 
sign of holding them, for the other children had 
accepted Miriam largely on Marjory’s say-so. 
They knew that the little girl lived in the big 
house on the hill and that her people were as 
wealthy as any in town. They did not share 
Marjory’s knowledge, though, that Miriam 
was a “ real princess,” and she did not shine for 
them by reason of this additional glamour. 

Just why Marjory had told no one about the 
princess part, she could not even say to her¬ 
self. It may have been because the princess 
was usually about whenever she might have a 

good chance to tell the other children about her 

160 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


151 


friend, and courtesy forbade personal remarks 
at these times; or it may have been because 
Marjory was still carrying out the pretense 
of being a princess herself, and she was shy 
about the others’ finding out about it. More 
and more, too, the two girls enjoyed each 
other’s company so much that they were in¬ 
clined to have their good times alone together 
instead of with the other children. 

Maybe this was the reason why, when the 
trouble arose, the princess found herself, one 
morning at recess, gazing fearsomely into the 
darkly scowling faces of some four little girls. 
Miriam’s schooling before this had not been 
accomplished in company with other children, 
and it was true that she was not alwavs care- 
ful to maintain the modest behavior which they 
required of each other. Marjory had not 
quite finished her arithmetic paper, and was 
not present at the beginning of the disagree¬ 
ment. The topic which had brought it about 
was not a very important one, but this did not 
seem to make any difference to the four whose 
wrath had been aroused by Miriam’s contradic¬ 
tion. 


152 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


It was Dorothy Phillips, a fair-haired plump 
little girl, who had set the match to the blaze of 
discord by saying, as the children filed out of 
the schoolroom at the close of the recitation in 
history, “ Well, I don’t see why they made so 
much of that old William’s going over from 
France to England, away back there in 1066! 
Everybody knows it isn’t very far, not nearly 
so far as from one of our States to another, 
even! Why, the people in France can stand 
on the edge of their country and look over at 
England any day! ” 

Here it was that the princess had put in her 
indiscreet comment, spoken carelessly over her 
shoulder. 

“No, not any day, Dorothy. They hardly 
ever can.” (All the other little girls agreed 
later on the way home from school that Miriam 
had said this with a “ perfectly hateful ” ex¬ 
pression on her face and a “ highty-mighty ” 
air which they thought was almost unbearable.) 
“ It’s usually too foggy and rainy to see across 
the Channel, and even if it’s clear, you’d have 
to go to the part of France that is the very 
nearest to get a sight of England.” 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


153 


Dorothy pouted and scowled at her cor¬ 
rector. “ How do you know? ” she asked 
pertly. 

The fact that Miriam had been there was 
unanswerable, and therefore Dorothy did not 
try to argue that point. Her line of attack 
was to prove that the other girl was wrong in 
what she had first said. 

“ Well, I guess it wouldn’t rain every day,” 
contended Dorothy with scorn. “ There must 
be more clear days than cloudy ones, and then 
they could see across easily enough, I guess.” 
The state of the weather in England had all 
at once become an exceedingly important mat¬ 
ter with her. This new girl from the house on 
the hill should not, if she could help it, go about 
airing her learning to those who were quite as 
good as she was. 

Miriam did not reply immediately. She 
stood silent in the middle of the group. There 
was a puzzled look in her clear brown eyes. 
She was thinking hard; but because she had 
not yet grown wise about the kinds of things 
that lead to useless disagreements, she foolishly 

I 

stuck to the argT.iment. What Dorothy said 


154 THE KEAL PKINCESS 

was clearly wrong, and must not go uncor¬ 
rected. 

“ But it is foggy and rainy every day for a 
good part of the year,” she maintained firmly, 
“ and you can't see across the Channel, then, 
so there! I've been on both sides of it; so I 
know 1 ” 

If Miriam could have left off the last sen¬ 
tence, the quarrel might yet have blown over. 
The reference to her superior experience was 
the only thing needed to make pej)pery Dor¬ 
othy forget all else but the subject in hand. 
The argument waxed warm, and the two who 
led the debate became flushed and their eyes 
snapped, as it developed. Miriam received no 
sympathy from any of her new friends. In¬ 
stead, they seemed glad to be able to find this 
way to express their growing resentment of 
her intrusion into their circle. Their smiles 
for Dorothy’s speeches and their frowns for 
Miriam’s replies plainly expressed their 
attitude. 

Having handed in the arithmetic paper, 
Marjory came up just as the Avords were flying 
most hotly back and forth, and knew right 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


155 


away that some dreadful trouble was in the 
air. She listened for a few moments, until she 
could stand it no longer. How did they dare 
to contradict a princess? For shame! The 
awfulness of it came over her in the same way 
that it had done when she had ordered the 
princess about on the occasion of the fire. She 
entered on a defense that was quite as energetic 
as the scolding she had given herself at that 
time. The little girl broke hurriedly into the 
circle that had closed in upon her friend. 

“You’re all wrong!” she exclaimed hotly, 
seizing Miriam’s arm and facing the angry- 
eyed children around her. “ If Miriam says 
anything about Europe, it’s so, because she 
knows what she’s talking about. There isn’t 
one of you who has ever been on an ocean liner, 
and you know it. How dare you say she’s 
wrong? Come on, Miriam, let’s go back in.” 

IMarjory was quite beside herself. Her 
dark eyes snapped and her cheeks glowed with 
excitement; yet she spoke with absolute sure¬ 
ness. The other children shrank back, as arm 
in arm with the princess, she pushed through 
them toward the schoolhouse. Even Dorothy 


156 


THE EEAL PEmCESS 


found herself surprised into silence. They 
stared after the departing jDair without a word, 
one and all. A moment later the school bell 
forced an end to the impending discussion. 

“ I don’t see how she can be so cocksure! ” 
muttered Dorothy into the ear of a sympathetic 
companion, as they filed into the room. She 
cast a dark glance in Miriam’s direction; but 
the latter, who had slipped into a seat beside 
Marjory and was bending with her over a 
geography book, was quite oblivious of the 
look. The storm was over for the time being. 

The long rays of the late afternoon sun were 
streaming through the orchard when the matter 
of the recess argument again came up. 

“ Why didn’t you let me go on talking to 
Dorothy Phillips this morning? ” asked Miriam 
from one perch in their favorite old apple-tree. 

Marjory from her place on another branch 
looked down into the princess’ questioning 
face. She flushed a little and her eyes grew 
bright. “ Well, you were right and she was 
wrong,” she said uncertainly. 

“ I’d rather have fought it out. They think 
I’m different, somehow, and you made them 





“You’re all wrong! ’’ she exclaimed hotly.— Page 155 























THE REAL PRINCESS 


157 


think so all the more by what you said,” con¬ 
tinued Miriam slowly. “ That’s just the 
trouble since IVe come here, anyway,” she 
added, “ I am different. I never went to a 
school like this one before, and I never lived in 
a town like this, and—^well, everything. Why, 
I’m different even from you, Marjory.” 
There was a shade of wistfulness in her tone. 

Marjory, trembling, could hardly trust her¬ 
self to say anything. “ Yes,” she breathed, 
“ you are different—oh ever so! ” 

There was a long sigh from beneath her. 
“ Well, I don’t see why all of you can’t forget 
it for a minute!” Miriam spoke a little 
petulantly. “ It wasn’t my fault that I had 
to live in Europe instead of here. And any¬ 
way, I’m here now and am going to be, just as 
long as any one else. I’d like to fight that 
Dorothy Phillips! ” she burst out indignantly. 
‘‘ Everybody but you, Marjory, does just what 
she says. If I could just fight her, the way 
a boy could another boy, maybe I could put a 
little sense into her head! ” 

Marjory listened, amazed. This was not 
very princess-like talk, certainly; but she felt 




158 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


a little thrill at Miriam’s words. Princes, of 
course, were perfectly free to go out and fight 
—or was it knights who did their fighting for 
them? The matter was becoming confused in 
her mind. 

‘‘ Promise me, Marjory,” the princess was 
saying, standing up on the branch so that she 
was on a level with Marjory’s eyes, “ that you’ll 
help me to show them that I’m not different. 
I am just the same as they are, you know, even 
if I am used to different things. Will you 
promise? ” 

Bewilderedly Marjory promised. 


CHAPTER XX 


The chance to show the other pupils in 
Room 14 that Miriam was not different from 
any normal, honest, fun-loving, little American 
girl, except, perhaps, in having more than the 
usual amount of courage, came much sooner 
than either Marjory or Miriam expected. As 
it turned out, an incident made it clear that 
Miriam was quite different from two pupils in 
the room; but so, by good luck, were the rest 
of the class. She was not lacking in supporters 
after the occurrence took place. It happened 
this way: 

The pupils in Miss Borden’s room were 
seated at desks arranged in rows in the usual 
fashion. The room did not have as much 
blackboard space as was needed, and the 
teacher’s desk had been placed at one side so 
as to make it easy to get at the whole board 
placed across the front of the room. It will 
be easy to understand that any especially mis¬ 
chief-loving pupils might have a very good 

chance to idle away their time, if their seats 

169 


160 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


were located in the part of the room farthest 
away from the teacher’s desk. Dorothy 
Phillips belonged to the mischief-loving class, 
but she was rarely known to be the one to thirds 
of the ideas leading to mischief. She was not 
a bright child, but made up in stubborn per¬ 
sistence and strong will what she may have 
lacked in other ways. 

Harvey Gibbons, on the other hand, showed 
a decidedly inventive turn of mind. He sat 
across the aisle from Miriam, on the outside 
row of seats farthest from the teacher and 
about half-way back in the room. He was a 
wiry little boy, with bristly yellow hair that 
usually stood straight up in tufts on his head. 
He was never tired of inventing new ways to 
surprise various of his schoolmates who sat near 
him and to make them laugh. Miss Borden 
was well aware of this, for her blue eyes saw a 
great deal more than Harvey dreamed they 
did. She meant to let him keep his seat on 
the other side of the room, however, because 
she had ideas of her own concerning his reform. 
The watch-dog method was not one of them. 

Harvey was on Miriam’s right hand; Mar- 


THE BEAL PBINOESS 


IGl 


jory was across the aisle on her left. Two 
seats back of Miriam sat Dorothy Phillips, and 
just behind her was little Mary Derrick, a pale, 
thin child, wearing thick, heavy-lensed glasses 
that seemed far too large for her head. 

That Wednesday afternoon had seemed a 
long one to Harvey. Perhaps it seemed 
especially so because of the fact that Friday 
was yet such a distance off. Harvey had 
found the study hour after Geography very, 
very dull, and looking about at the bent heads 
of the other pupils offered little to interest 
him. Even the fact that there was to be a 
written lesson in arithmetic the next period did 
not furnish him with any real reason to study. 
Harvey was the kind of boy who depended on 
good luck to pull him through. 

At length he found a long piece of old string 
in his desk with which he amused himself for a 
time by winding and unwinding. He wound 
and unwound it again and again, and then, 
always under cover of his desk and with furtive 
glances at the teacher, hit upon the idea of 
doubling and twisting it into a cord. This he 
completed, and then formed the cord into a 


162 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


stronger coil by repeating the process. Idly 
he played with the piece of mock roj)e he had 
made, unnoticed by any of his classmates. 

It was while Miriam was at Miss Borden’s 
desk, asking hel^) on an arithmetic problem, 
that Harvey took liberties with her desk. 
Partly because he needed only one of the iron 
supports where it was screwed to the floor, 
and partly because the other children were en¬ 
grossed in getting ready for the arithmetic test, 
what he did was not observed by any of the 
other pupils, not even by Marjory, who had 
a clear view across Miriam’s seat. There was 
one exception, however. One pupil, idle like 
himself, took note of what he was doing and 
joyfully looked forward to the results. 
Dorothy, from her point of vantage behind 
him, watched his preparations with the deepest 
interest and delight. Her peeps from behind 
her arithmetic book were frequent enough to 
let her follow every step in his actions. 

Harvey’s chance did not come until the 
arithmetic test was in progress. Miriam had 
returned to her seat by Marjory’s aisle, and 
she had been the last one to leave her seat. 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


163 


Miss Borden distributed the paper and began 
putting the questions on the board. 

For a few moments, only the sound of 
scratching pencils could be heard. Then little 
Mary Derrick raised her hand, and receiving a 
nod from Miss Borden, passed down the aisle 
on her way to the front of the room. There¬ 
upon two minds chose precisely the same 
instant in which to put their thought into 
action. Dorothy, having folded and directed 
her dishonest inquiry for information about an 
arithmetic problem, chose the moment of 
JMary’s passage to throw the note down the 
aisle toward Harvey’s desk. Just as the white 
wad of paper touched the floor beneath him, 
Harvey, hearing the footsteps behind, jerked 
up the string blockade which he had arranged 
between his own and Miriam’s desk. This 
threw the note across the aisle. 

But Miriam, just settling herself for the 
work ahead of her, felt the jar of the string 
jerked from her desk, and looked up, alert. 
Mary was coming down the aisle behind her, 
her eyes, though Miriam could not know this, 
fixed upon her book. Miriam knew Harvey 


164 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


well enough to guess that any of his doings 
meant mischief. She leaned over suddenty, 
saw the string blockade which was to trip 
]Mary, and acting as quickly as she could think, 
half rose in her seat and with all her might 
stepped on the corded string between the two 
desks. 

“ Oh—uh! ” 

The surprised Maiy, bumping squarely into 
the other little girl, could not keep back the 
exclamation. If Harvey could have planned 
this collision, without its consequences, he might 
have enjoyed watching it even more than the 
trick he had arranged. As it was, he stared in 
stupid wonder at the sight of the two girls, 
while Dorothy’s horrified eyes perceived from 
behind that Miriam’s heel held down the tell¬ 
tale note which was never to reach its desti¬ 
nation. 

All eyes were fixed upon the scene of ex¬ 
citement. Arithmetic problems hung fire 
while those who solved them peered eagerly to 
find a reason for the sudden scuffle on one side 
of the room. If red cheeks were a sign by 
which to identify the culprit. Miss Borden 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


165 


would have found it easy to name several of 
them. Mary had retired to her seat in con¬ 
fusion. Miriam now stood in the aisle, her 
foot planted firmly upon Harvey’s string, 
while her eyes blazed down with unrelenting 
wrath upon the boy’s crestfallen countenance. 

The teacher rose hastily and came over to 
the scene of action. It did not take her long 
to understand the state of affairs, for her past 
experience was of great assistance in the 
matter. 

“ Harvey, is that your string? ” she asked 
quietly, but without harshness. 

Harvey had to say that it was. 

“ Take your foot off it, Miriam, and sit 
down. Please untie the cord, Harvey,—and 
hand me that note.” 

Her tone brooked no disobeying of orders. 
The string was duly untied and the note de¬ 
livered into Miss Borden’s hands, after which 
the room, though still pulsing with suppressed 
excitement, settled down to some semblance of 
work. 

The public apology to Mary Derrick re¬ 
quired of Harvey a little later perhaps made a 


166 


THE KEAL PRmCESS 


deep enough impression on the culprit at the 
time to keep him from indulging in such 
dangerous tricks soon again. The indignant 
scorn of his classmates, though, for his boorish¬ 
ness in allowing a little girl to be his victim, 
proved to be much bitterer medicine. 

As for Dorothy, her punishment was hard 
to bear because, like Harvey, she had to suffer 
the sting of the whole room’s disapproval. 
Cheating was clearly a sign of stupidit}^ as well 
as of dishonesty. The pupils in Room 14, in 
the “ forum ” sessions where Miss Borden en¬ 
couraged them to talk over class affairs, had 
gone on record as condemning the practice in 
any form. Dorothy was not soon to forget 
this mistake or the lasting results which its dis¬ 
covery brought down upon her. 

Two days later, during the recess hour, one 
small point was cleared up in the string block¬ 
ade episode. It had not occurred either to 
Dorothy or to most of the others to question 
IMiriam in this regard. The children were 
playing hop-scotch at one side of the school 
yard, and it was Miriam’s turn to jump. The 
others crowded about to watch her. 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


167 


“ She ought to jump two spaces at a time, 
when she can jump on a note and a rope at 
once! ” cried little Mary Derrick innocently. 

It was a mere guess on Mary’s part, but the 
other children looked at Miriam in surprise. 
The artless remark created a stir about the 
hop-scotch rectangle. No one could give re¬ 
liable details about the incident because it had 
happened too quickly. Miriam was the only 
one to see it all. Absorbed in the business of 
hopping over the squares with the little stone, 
she did not immediately make answer to the 
speech. 

Marjory caught her gently by the arm 

“ Did you step on that note—on purpose? ” 
she asked incredulously. 

JMiriam, turning, saw the question written 
also in the astonished eyes of Dorothy Phillips. 

Then she faced them squarely. 

‘‘ Yes, I did,” she answered. “ I could have 
picked up that note before Miss Borden got 
there, easily.” She glanced at Dorothy’s 
crimson face. I thought it was better not 
to,” she added quietly, and then whirling about, 
went on with her game. 



CHAPTER XXI 


‘‘ You see,” she told Marjory afterward, as 
the two walked home from school, “ there were 
lots of other times when I did pick up 
Dorothy’s notes for her. Sometimes they 
were for me. She always wanted somebody to 
do her problems for her. It didn’t seem fair 
to help her all the time. Maybe you thought 
it was mean of me to let Miss Borden find out 
about it.” She gazed anxiously at her com¬ 
panion. 

Marjory shook her head, but spoke only half 
her thoughts. “ Of course not,” she said 
earnestly, and added, in a low voice, “ How 
could you do anything mean? ” 

Miriam’s forehead wrinkled in perplexity 
and then gradually smoothed out again as she 
smiled back at her new chum. “ Well, Mar¬ 
jory Huxton, you are the queerest girl! I 
don’t see why you always think I’m so awfully 
good! Honestly now, why do you think so? ” 

she asked. An idea struck her. “ Did you 

168 


THE REAL PRINCESS 169 

ever hear anything about me before I came 
here? she questioned curiously. 

This was a plain enough question, and 
Miriam was expecting a plain answer. “ Well, 
Mr. John told us that you were coming with 
your aunt,” said Marjory slowly. “ And he 

told us that you were—that you belonged-” 

She stumbled and stopped. There was still 
the curious look in the princess’ eyes that 
showed she was not satisfied with Marjory’s 
reply. Yet the little girl felt the overwhelm¬ 
ing shyness again steal over her. How could 
she explain? Marjory could do nothing but 
stammer about for an explanation, while the 
princess’ curiosity grew more keen. 

“ Do you mean he said that I was an 
orphan? ” asked Miriam at last. Her face was 
serious now and her eyes never left Marjory’s. 
The last word was spoken in a lowered tone, 
as if she were half afraid of Marjory’s dis¬ 
approval. 

Marjory breathed a sigh of relief. ‘‘ He 
said that you were coming with your aunt,” 
she assented gladly, “ and that your mother 
and father-” Again she hesitated, this 





170 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


time for fear of hurting the princess by bring¬ 
ing up sad memories. 

“ They died when I was a baby,” finished 
Miriam quietly. “ But was that what you 
started out to say, Marjory? ” she added in 
the next breath. 

Happily for Marjory, the waving and ges¬ 
ticulating figure that beckoned to them from 
Billy’s porch was quite enough excuse for her 
failing to answer this question. 

“ Oh, look! ” she interrupted with real relief, 
“ Billy’s aunt wants us to stop and see her. 
Maybe she’s had some news from him since my 
letter. Oh, I do hope he’s getting along all 
right! ” 

The two hurried up to the veranda where 
Miss Barnard waited for them. She looked 
older than when Marjory had seen her last, 
and there were dark circles under her eyes. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad I saw you coming! ” ex¬ 
claimed the lady, giving a hand to each of them. 
‘‘ Can’t you stop a few minutes, both of you, 
to come in and talk to a lonely old lady? ” 
She smiled a little as she spoke, but there was 
pleading in her eyes. Neither of the little 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


171 


girls knew how long she had been watching for 
them from her front window after she had 
thought of calling them in. The hours since 
Billy had left dragged by like days; and after 
the first half week at home again without him, 
she found herself so desperately lonely that she 
was fairly at her wits’ end. Never had the 
house seemed so large and empty and tomb¬ 
like. Then it had occurred to her that Billy’s 
best friend might be a comfort under these 
circumstances. 

Miriam had to be introduced, of course, and 
Marjory did it simply, presenting her little 
friend as ‘‘ Miriam, who lives on the hill.” 
She wondered guiltily to herself afterward if 
she should have said ‘‘ the princess.” But that 
would have meant explanations, and Marjory 
felt unequal to making them. Miss Barnard 
welcomed them both gladly, and ushered them 
into the large old-fashioned parlor. 

The little girls settled themselves on a 
slippery old haircloth sofa at one end of the 
room, and Miss Barnard went to the opposite 
end to get a small rocker which she drew up 
near the sofa. 


172 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


In the hush of the great strange house before 
they had begun to talk, Marjory suddenly had 
the feeling that it was as if Billy were dead. 
The tall clock on the stairs ticked solemnly 
and loudly in the empty hall, the parlor window 
blinds were closely drawn, making the room 
almost dark. There was a damp, close smell 
through the house, a little like that which had 
crept out of Miss Sapphira’s dark front room. 
Besides this, the memory of that dreadful day 
of the fire when she had visited this parlor for 
the first time, came back to her vividly. 
Altogether, the room was not a pleasant one to 
Marjory. 

Miss Barnard began immediately to talk of 
Billy. It seemed as if she could think of no 
one else. She asked Marjory about the days 
in the orchard and seemed not to be able to 
hear enough about him. She wanted to know 
how much his hip had seemed to hinder him at 
those times, if he had not been able to play 
about quite happily in spite of it. It was 
clear that Billy’s aunt was still torn by two 
conflicting emotions: indignation because she 
had not herself had Billy looked after, and love 


THE REAL PRINCESS 173 

and loyalty for the dead doctor brother, whose 
ways until now had always seemed best. 

“ Billy’s Uncle William was a missionary 
doctor in India for fifteen years,” she said at 
last, a little sadly. “ Billy’s father and mother 
were missionaries in the same station. It was 
the same terrible climate that wore them all 
out, long before their time. If Billy hadn’t 
come home with liis uncle when he was little, 
I don’t know but that he would have gone the 
same way. As it was, he was never very 
strong—but his uncle said that with good care 
he would outgrow the trouble with his hip.” 
The old words came out again, as if they had 
burned themselves into the lady’s brain. 

“ The doctor—the new doctor—told me to 
give him lots of fresh air and sunshine,” she 
continued, almost as if talking to herself. She 
glanced about the room and then looked back 
at her guests. “ This wouldn’t be a very good 
place for him to come back to, would it? ” she 
asked. Then her face brightened. “ Well, 
when the weather is good, I could fix a place 
for him to play in out on the back porch; and 
then when it’s rainy, he can have all the sun- 





174 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


shine he wants in his little room up-stairs. The 
morning sun comes in there, every day that it 
is clear.” 

Miriam, less shy than Marjory about ex¬ 
pressing the thought that came to both, burst 
out, “ But why don’t you put back the blinds 
in the rooms down here so that he can stay here, 
too? ” 

Miss Barnard looked at her queerly. Then 
her eyes dropped. “ Why—why, I don’t 
know.” She laughed a little. “ They’ve 
always been this way, I guess. Will liked to 
have me keep the front room nice, and the sun 
does fade things, you know. We always kept 
those folding doors closed ”—^^she nodded 
toward the paneling back of the heavy curtains 
hanging beside the wide door into the hall— 
‘‘ to keep out the dust. It’s only lately that 
I’ve opened them. It seemed more homelike 
not to have to go by closed doors every time I 
leave the house.” 

Marjory, encouraged by Miriam’s boldness, 
added her support to the suggestion. “ Why 
don’t you, Miss Barnard?” she asked enthu¬ 
siastically. “ Maybe, later on,” she went on. 




THE KEAL PKINCESS 


175 


allowing her imagination full sway, “ he’ll need 
to get some exercise, and yet maybe not go up 
and down steps much. There’s lots of room 
down here where he could walk back and 
forth.” In her mind she pictured Billy pacing 
industriously to and fro between the two rooms 
flanking the hall. The picture rapidly filled 
in with details as she dwelt upon it. 

“And then,” she continued, her cheeks warm 
with the novelty of the idea, “ if there was lots 
of sun in the windows, maybe plants would 
grow along the sill, the way they do at school, 
and—why, that would make it almost like out¬ 
doors, wouldn’t it. Miss Barnard, especially if 
you opened the windows a little bit each day so 
as to make it smell nice and fresh, just as it 
would on the porch? ” 

The last suggestion might have been inter¬ 
preted as a critical one, and Marjory’s hostess 
looked at the speaker somewhat sharply. But 
the little girl’s face was entirely innocent, ex¬ 
cept that she seemed very anxious that her ideas 
should be approved. 

Miss Barnard turned her chair a little to 
make a survey of the furnishings about her. 



176 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


“ It seems like a good deal to dust every day,” 
she said slowly. “ I haven’t used the whole 
house much, with just Billy and myself here. 
It seemed foolish to keep a girl for just us two, 
and there is more work than one can do if I 
open up the other rooms.” She paused and 
became lost in reflection. 

“ Why don’t you take some of the things 
out, then?” suggested Miriam briskly. “I 
heard Aunt Mabel say that half the bother of 
keeping house with lots of people is that they 
keep too much—they don’t use all the things 
they take care of.” 

Marjory, listening, wondered suddenly if the 
lady would think these suggestions intrusive. 
Perhaps she would resent their ideas. But she 
remembered that the three were thinking only 
of Billy’s comfort. Miss Barnard most of all. 

The lady turned to the two as Miriam 
stopped speaking. ‘‘ Maybe your idea is 
right,” she said. ‘‘ Billy is all I have to live 
for now, and I want to do what will make him 
well and happiest. But I’ll need help in the 
way of advice and suggestions. I can get a 
woman to come in and do the actual work of it. 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 


177 


I wonder if you two, because you know Billy 
nearly as well as I do, would come over and 
help in the first way? Would you be willing 
to?” 

The bright eyes and eager responses which 
answered this question were not exactly those 
of the trained house decorator who sees a chance 
to practise his fascinating art, but certainly 
Miriam and Marjory were delighted to think 
that they might have a hand in preparing 
Billy’s home for him. The three finished an 
enthusiastic agreement before they parted. 

On the way out of the house, Miss Barnard 
picked up a handful of curious little objects 
which she had left in a tray upon the hall table. 

“ Do you know what these are, Marjory? ” 
she asked, holding out two of them for the little 
girl’s inspection. “ I found them up in Billy’s 
room, and thought perhaps you might know 
what kind of game he played with them. Of 
course I know what they’re made of”—she 
laughed a little—“ but do you know what 
thev’re meant for? ” 

Marjory, looking down upon the idle foot¬ 
ball players so dear to Billy’s heart, examined 



178 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


them with interest, but finally shook her head. 
Clearly, she had never seen them before. 

“ They look like sort of boy dolls to me,” she 
said curiously. “ But I never knew Billy to 
play with dolls, ever.” 

And so the mystery had to wait for its solu¬ 
tion until the captain of the team should come 
home again. 


CHAPTER XXII 


Meanwhile, if it had so happened that 
Billy was well enough to come home at the 
time that his friends were making plans for 
getting the big house ready, he would have had 
many, many miles to travel, many more than 
measured the distance between the Barnard 
home and the hospital in the city. For Billy 
had gone a-traveling upon his magic cloak, 
along with Miss Purcell, who was as fine a 
traveling companion as any one could wish for. 

It is true that the hip stayed in its customary 
place along with the rest of Billy’s body at the 
hospital, but the boy’s thoughts, on this fair, 
sunny afternoon, were bent upon a magic trip 
that was to take him far away. With the help 
of another nurse, Miss Purcell had wheeled 
Billy’s light cot out upon the wide sun-porch 
at the end of the long corridor, and he had 
spent nearly the whole day out there. Now at 
three, the porch was deserted except for his cot, 

for it was time for the other patients to take 

179 


180 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


naps. Billy, with his old impatience of naps, 
once he had begun to regain a little strength, 
had scorned the idea of being wheeled in for 
that purpose. The warm sun filled the open 
porch with a yellow light, and it did not take 
much persuasion on Billy’s part for Miss Pur¬ 
cell to consent to take the trip with him down 
into the quaint country of Old Mexico. These 
journeys into various parts of the world were 
beginning to become a habit with the two now, 
and they were constantly a delight, for a novel 
element had entered into them the last few 
times, much to Billy’s surprise and mystifica¬ 
tion. 

“ Well,” began the ‘‘ football girl,” turning 
Billy’s cot a little so that the boy should not 
face the sun but at the same time could feel 
the warmth of its rays, “ if you’ll just step off 
your cloak after me, Billy, I’ll try to lead the 
way into this new country, but you must not be 
too impatient with me, because you know I 
have never been here before.” She looked at 
him as she said this, laughing a little. 

Billy, looking a great deal more like his old 
self by this time, met her gaze with bright eyes. 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 181 

“ No, I won’t/’ he said quickly. “ No. Hurry 
up, let’s go on.” ' 

Miss Purcell leaned back in the straight chair 
beside the cot. “ First of all, then,” she said, 
“ let’s enjoy this warm tropical sun. It fairly 
burns through one, doesn’t it? I am wonder¬ 
ing if I shouldn’t have brought a hat.” 

Billy laughed delightedly, watching her from 
his pillow. “ Yes, you should,” he assented; 
then drew a careful hand over his nose and 
cheeks. “ My, I can feel my freckles getting 
bigger and bigger every minute. Did you ever 
hear of any one’s having the sunstroke down 
here? ” 

' The nurse assumed a thoughtful expression. 
“ Well, I have smelling-salts and arnica along, 
in case we get it,” she answered. She turned 
a little and waved her hand toward the branches 
of a tree near the porch. 

Billy fixed his attention eagerly on the fa¬ 
miliar oak, for he knew that in a moment 
imagination would change it into something 
new and strange. 

“ Just see the mesquite leaves out there,” she 
commented. ‘‘Do you see those long pods 


182 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


growing along the branches? IVe heard that 
the children down here like to pick them up 
under the trees and chew them the way we like 
slippery elm or willow twigs at home. Maybe 
you haven’t a very good view of that tree. 
Take these field-glasses so that you can see 
better.” 

A chuckle escaped Billy. He had seen many 
wonderful things through the stereoscope that 
Miss Purcell handed him. These “ field- 
glasses ” had become a regular part of the 
game. He could see clear around the world 
with them! 

To Billy’s interest and delight, she picked 
up a pile of pictures that she had stowed away 
back of her chair, and handed him one from the 
top of the pile. 

They went through them slowly and with 
care. Some of the pictures showed different 
kinds of trees and fruits that grow in Old 
Mexico, and there were a few scenes from the 
larger cities. When they came to these, they 
delightedly agreed to hop upon the traveling- 
cloak and travel with it to the scene of the 
picture. 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


183 


‘‘ This sun is hot,” remarked the nurse pres¬ 
ently, after the photographs had received due 
attention. “ I’m wondering if I’d better not 
get you one of those wide-brimmed pointed 
hats that the boys wear down here. You can 
see how cool they’d be, with no crown to reflect 
the sun directly, and with that big brim to cast 
a shadow about one. There now, I believe I 
will!” 

Again she reached behind the chair, and 
pulled toward her a pasteboard box, from 
which she removed the cover. There were a 
number of things inside—Billy could see 
enough to be sure of this—and contentedly re¬ 
fraining from asking the reason for the miracle, 
he watched her take out a tiny pointed hat 
woven of the finest possible straw. The hat 
was of the style that the old witch who be¬ 
strides a broomstick often wears, but instead of 
being black, this one was gayly striped round 
and round in many colors. 

“ I declare, it’s much too small! ” exclaimed 
Miss Purcell laughing. “ How could I have 
made such a mistake? Well, you can look at 
it anyway, Billy, and then I’ll take it back. I 




184 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


brought along a few other things I thought you 
might like to see, too/’ she added, and leaned 
again over the box. 

Curiously Billy picked up the tiny hat, and 
gave it a close examination. Then he turned 
to the array of other articles that the nurse 
spread out upon his bed. There were minute 
pottery dishes, made in nests so as to fit into 
each other. There was a little clay stove, for 
burning charcoal. There were small baskets, 
woven of the same material as the hat, but 
made exactly like clothes-hampers in every de¬ 
tail except size. There were little dolls dressed 
in Mexican costume, and other articles that 
were models of the bigger ones used in every¬ 
day Mexican life. Miss Purcell carefully de¬ 
scribed the use of each one. 

For a moment the spell broke, and Billy 
lifted questioning eyes to his companion’s face. 
“ You must have been there,” he accused her. 
“ How do you know all these things? ” 

Miss Purcell hesitated. “ Some one told 
me,” she answered him then smilingly. “ But 
you mustn’t ask questions, you know, for we’re 
both taking this trip, and there isn’t time to stop 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


185 


and wonder about things. Dear me, it must 
be getting late, as the sun doesn’t seem so hot, 
does it? ” She glanced out through the trees 
at the fading light. ‘‘We must hurry along. 
I thought that as long as we were in Mexico, 
I’d just run over to the funny old fruit-store 
on my way for these things, Billy, and get a 
basketful they had on sale there. I wonder if 
you’d care to try some? ” And this time, she 
reached behind her chair for another article, a 
fancy basket filled with strange-looking fruits 
of different and beautifully rich colors. 

“ Just one this afternoon,” she told him, in a 
gentle caution. 

Billy gazed wonderstruck at the array in the 
basket. Those yellow flat pear-shaped things 
were mangoes. Miss Purcell told him; the little 
yellow round fmit was guavas; the round green 
object was an apple, not the ordinary kind, but 
a custard apple. It was too soft to eat by it¬ 
self. Down in the bottom of the basket, they 
found a tiny silver spoon. Tied to the spoon 
with a tiny bit of thread was a scrap of paper, 
and on it some writing. 

Billy eagerly spread out the paper to read. 


186 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


“An American friend hopes that the delight¬ 
ful bracing air of Mexico is doing Billy a great 
deal of good/’ he read very slowly, for the 
handwriting was a little cramped and small. 
“ The friend hopes, too, that the traveling- 
cloak will have a splendid trip home again and 
will bring Billy back safe and sound very 
soon.” 

There was no need for Billy to ask the ques¬ 
tion that he did, for his whole face was an in¬ 
quiry. 

Miss Purcell laughingly shook her head. “ I 
guess it must have been a fairy princess,” she 
said at length in a joking tone. 

The boy looked startled. His thoughts flew 
back to the last time that he had heard a prin¬ 
cess mentioned, and his brow clouded in a deep 
revery. It didn’t seem as if it could be—^but 
still it might—the princess about whom Mar¬ 
jory had become so excited. He still had some 
real doubts as to her being a genuine princess. 
He fell to wondering about it. 

“ Do you know the basket was from a 
princess? ” he asked his nurse seriously. 

She glanced back at him, mischief in her 



THE REAL PRINCESS 


187 


eyes. I thought maybe the trip wouldn’t be 
complete unless the prince traveling upon his 
magic cloak could meet a fairy princess along 
the way, and let her feast him with her bounty,” 
she returned. 

But Billy would not laugh with her. His 
curiosity knew no bounds. Did Miriam send 
these things to him? Who could it have been, 
if not she? 

“ Well, there is a princess in our town,” he 
said at last in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Now it was Miss Purcell’s turn to be sur¬ 
prised. “A princess! You don’t mean a real 
one! ” 

“ The gardener who works where she lives 
says so,” replied Billy. 

The nurse was regarding him with curious 
eyes. ‘‘ That’s odd. Where did she come 
from? ” 

Billy was vague about this, but he was sure 
now that Miriam did not send the things, for it 
was evident that Miss Purcell had never heard 
of her. 

Oh, I don’t know,” he said indifferently. 
“ France or England or somewhere, I guess.” 


188 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


Miss Purcell was puzzled. ‘‘ But they don’t 
have princesses in France any more,” she said. 
“And England—are you sure it was an Eng¬ 
lish princess? ” 

Billy wasn’t sure of anything except what 
Mr. John had said to Marjory and himself 
before the travelers had arrived at the house 
on the hill. He told his nurse all he could 
remember of the conversation. 

When the two said their good-nights that 
evening, each of them was puzzling over an un¬ 
answered question. Billy was wondering who 
could have sent the Mexican things to him, 
and Miss Purcell could not understand how a 
real live princess could have come to live in a 
little American town, without her seeing some¬ 
thing about it in the papers. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


Billy was anxious to spend as much time as 
his nurse would allow him upon the broad open 
porch at the end of his corridor. It had never 
been his habit to stay indoors when he could 
stay out, a fact easily accounted for by the 
gloominess of the Barnard house as he had 
known it. The fact also explained the absence 
of even worse developments in his histor^^ of ill 
health than had already come to pass. This 
particular morning was bright and sunny, and 
from under the shade of the balcony the boy 
could gaze out into the leafage of the trees for 
as long a time as might be, content in spite of 
his physical discomfort. 

He was not to remain long without company 
that morning. He had not been on the porch 
fifteen minutes before he heard the sound of 
moving wheels behind him, and looked around 
to see the approach of an invalid-chair occupied 
by a bent old lady, who was attired in a gay 

lavender lounging-robe. Her chair was being 

189 


190 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


pushed—to Billy’s dismay—by his first nurse, 
Miss Turner. 

The feeling that came over the boy on seeing 
again the tall thin nurse was hard to analyze. 
Primarily it was a sense of shame because he 
had to remember that dreadful time when he 
had completely lost control of himself. He 
could not repress, either, something of the same 
distaste for her appearance. After the first 
sight of the two, he involuntarily turned his 
face away to the out-of-doors, uncomfortable as 
long as the nurse stayed on the porch. 

To his horror, he felt her hand upon one of 
his pillows. Then she was standing beside his 
cot so that he could not help seeing her. She 
leaned over to give the pillow a smoothing 
touch. 

“ Sitting up, aren’t you, just like a prince,” 
she said to him, smiling upon him cheerfully, 
with no memory of past wars evident in her 
tone. “ First we see, you’ll be walking 
around.” 

The boy looked up at her, his blue eyes dark 
with feeling. At the word “ prince,” the look 
changed. He dropped his eyes, and did not 


191 


,THE REAL PRINCESS 

raise them again. He heard her “ Ever so glad 
you’re feeling better, William,” and then was 
aware of her receding footsteps; but all this 
was noted but vaguely in his mind. He clung 
to the word; a cruel revulsion of feeling came 
over him at his failure to live up to his part. 
What a poor prince he had been! Who ever 
heard of a prince babbling like a baby when 
some one he did not care for came near him? 
Who ever heard of a prince who looked the 
other way when such a person came around? 
Yet this was the way he had acted when Miss 
Turner was with him. A prince, indeed! 
Billy felt that he would make a sorry prince. 
Billy, an ordinary American boy with babyish 
dislikes and whims, might go a-traveling upon 
a magic cloak; but never Billy, a prince! He 
was glad Marjory was not around to hear how 
miserably he had failed. The boy’s eyes were 
sober as he looked out upon the fluttering leaves 
of the oak-tree near the porch. 

There was a quick movement from the 
wheel-chair at his right, and then a voice spoke. 
The old lady in the chair was leaning forward 
toward him. She wore a lavender silk and lace 


192 


THE KEAL PEESTCESS 


cap which completely covered her hair, and she 
had a way of nervously pushing under the cap 
a wisp of hair that didn’t seem to be there. It 
was apparent that she wanted without offense 
to make friends with Billy. 

“ The sun shines real bright this morning, 
doesn’t it? ” she began pleasantly. “ This is 
the first morning I’ve ever tried sitting out 
here.” 

Billy, torn suddenly away from his own 
thoughts, found nothing to say to this, espe¬ 
cially as he was not well versed in the art of 
making conversation. He looked at the 
speaker respectfully but without particular in¬ 
terest. 

‘‘ I’d like to take a long trip somewhere, this 
kind of morning,” went on the old lady, who 
seemed not to mind furnishing all the conversa¬ 
tion. “Arabia would be pretty hot this time 
of year, but I wouldn’t mind that. This 
would be as good a day as any for a long 
camel ride.” 

Billy stared at the queer old lady. Her face 
was serious. He had never known a camel 
personally, but even in his reading he had yet 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


193 


to find an old lady riding upon one—or any 
kind of lady, for that matter. Perhaps she 
was joking, anyhow. As yet he saw no need 
for speech. 

Mrs. Rossiter found it a pleasant novelty to 
come upon a good listener in this place of busi¬ 
nesslike efficiency. Even with her new inter¬ 
est, life at the hospital had a way of going on 
without her help. If she had not been used 
from babyhood to have her every whim care¬ 
fully attended to, to be looked upon with the 
deference which is not always wisely paid to the 
very wealthy; if she had not been sure of the 
power which was hers to please, when she 
should care to do so, her pride might have been 
a little piqued at Billy’s long-continued silence. 
But she knew the boy from another source, and 
it pleased her to have him fix grave eyes upon 
her, far more than as if he had said anything. 
Such absolute attention was flattering. 

“ I went for camel rides quite often when I 
was in Arabia,” she continued, letting her cap 
rest for a moment, and leaning back upon her 
cushions. “ You know the camel kneels down 
to let you get on it, and its owner stands on 



194 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


the cameFs knees till you’re ready for it to get 
up. Then away you go—as if you were riding 
on top of an auto instead of in it. Oh, it’s great 
fun riding camels,” she said. “ Do you know 
what they eat? ” she asked suddenly. 

“No. What? ” The boy’s eyes were fixed 
upon her face. What a queer person to be 
talking about camels! 

“ Lucerne, a sort of mixed grass—and wild 
dates, when they can get them.” 

She went on to tell him more about Arabia, 
of its desert wastes, but of its beauties, also— 
how shut away it was from the rest of the world 
by the peculiar features of its topography. She 
told him about the “ walking stones,” which 
the Arabs brought to tourists, claiming that 
they had the faculty of moving along the 
ground. The stones would not “ walk ” for 
the tourists, though, perhaps because they 
needed the moving sands of a certain far-away 
district to help them along. 

Old Mrs. Rossiter was at this moment a dif¬ 
ferent person from the patient of a few days 
ago who had querulously demanded Miss Pur¬ 
cell’s return. Her cheeks were flushed, her 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


195 


dark eyes snapped. The fringe upon her 
lavender cap swung violently to and fro with 
her nods as she talked. It was clear that she 
was having a highly enjoyable time. She had 
a very real art in telling her stories of Arabia, 
and the fact that she had personally visited the 
country added to her ability. That in itself 
was enough to make the boy’s eyes open. He 
could remember nothing of his own early voy¬ 
age across tropical seas, but he had been born 
abroad and had breathed the air of far-away 
lands into his lungs, and had absorbed it in his 
blood; so that he had a great longing to visit 
those countries and to wander among their 
strange peoples. The journeys upon the magic 
cloak had come the nearest to satisfying this 
thirst of anything in his life, and he lay against 
his pillows now, listening in almost unbreathing 
quietness, to the tales which the old lady was 
finding such delight in weaving for him. 

The sun was riding high in the sky when she 
finished the last one. Mrs. Rossiter drew a 
long breath and settled herself back into her 
cushions. “My!” she sighed. “I almost 
feel as if I’d like to go back! This hospital 


196 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


seems a dull sort of place. I believe I’ll go 
home as soon as I can get ready.” 

“You aren’t staying here because you want 
to, are you? ” ventured Billy in frank wonder. 
The idea seemed too ridiculous for words. 

The old lady stared at him fixedly for a 
moment. She chose not to make any answer 
to his question. “ I’m going to order dinner 
for us both, right out here on this porch,” she 
announced, and pressed the button which rang 
her bell. 

“Anything easily digestible and within rea¬ 
son,” the doctor had said of Billy’s diet. As 
for Mrs. Rossiter, he had declined even to make 
out a diet for her, as he considered her case 
dismissed. Thus it was that the meal which 
Billy and his self-imposed hostess shared to¬ 
gether that day was an unusually delightful 
one, as attractive in things to eat as it was in 
its service. Some magic had brought it about 
that the table-cloth on the folding hospital table 
was of soft rich damask, and the dishes of ex¬ 
quisite thinness and dainty in a uniform pattern 
of lavender and white. 

A quaint little mottled dish full of candied 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


197 


fruits and nuts held a sj)ecial charm for Billy. 
Miss Purcell joined them in partaking of these. 
She drew up a chair beside the cot as she laugh¬ 
ingly accepted the invitation. 

“ The princess feasts the prince,” she mur¬ 
mured softly as she sat down. Then, “ Did 
this come from Arabia? ” she questioned, hold¬ 
ing up a translucent piece of candied fig. 

Mrs. Rossiter nodded. ‘‘ I brought home a 
whole trunk full of their sweets,” she said. 
“Americans have no notion how to make candy 
that doesn’t make you sick of it in five min¬ 
utes.” 

Billy’s mind was hard at work. Under¬ 
standing dawned in his eyes. He turned upon 
Mrs. Rossiter. “ Did you send me those 
things from Mexico? ” he asked her point- 
blank. This was the princess Miss Purcell had 
meant! 

There was no denial from any one. The 
fact was settled. 

“ I—I’m awfully obliged to you,” said Billy. 
There was sincerity in his voice. 

Mrs. Rossiter laughed off his thanks. “ It 
seemed good to be getting things for some- 


198 


THE EEAL PRINCESS 


body,” she declared. “ It’s been years since 
I had any one to get things for.” 

Miss Purcell broke in here with a question 
of her own which had not yet been answered. 
“ I can’t think what sort of person that could 
be,” she said, “ in your town, Billy, who claims 
to be a princess. I’ve been thinking it over, 
and there practically aren’t any princesses any 
more, not as there used to be. If this were a 
real English princess, I’m sure I should have 
read something about it.” 

Mrs. Rossiter had to be told of the princess, 
too, and she agreed with Miss Purcell. It 
seemed very strange that such an event had not 
been more widely heralded. 

Billy could offer no further information, but 
by this time he had convinced himself that 
Miriam was a real princess, and he stuck to his 
original statement. The matter was very 
strange. They could make nothing of it. 
Miss Purcell said she was going to take a spe¬ 
cial trip down to Billy’s town just to see its 
princess. 

At this point Mrs. Rossiter complained of 
feeling the need for a nap, and after receiving 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 199 

the acknowledgments of her guests was drawn 
into the hospital by her nurse. 

Thoughtfully, her mind still puzzling, Miss 
Purcell cleared away the festive dinner things. 
As she picked up the mottled dish with its re¬ 
maining candies, Billy touched her arm. 

“ Say, do you suppose,” he suggested, speak¬ 
ing in a low tone and indicating the dish, “ you 
could get those some way to Miss Turner,— 
without her knowing where they came from? 
She might like the taste of them.” 

When the tall thin nurse did sample the 
sweets, it is not strange that she found in their 
rich flavor something far more satisfying than 
she might have if she had not found out that 
the candy came from Billy. And the next 
morning, when Dr, Fitch stopped her in the 
corridor, she felt still happier. 

‘‘ I want to congratulate both you and Miss 
Purcell,” he said, “ for your wisdom in ex¬ 
changing patients. Why, you’ve done won¬ 
ders with Mrs. Rossiter. What do you think 
she asked me just now? If she could get her 
things packed up and go home to-morrow! It 
seems she’s planning to take a long trip as soon 


200 


THE EEAL PEII^^CESS 


as she can get ready. Of all modem mir¬ 
acles -” the doctor shook his blond head, 

smiling. ‘‘And the boy, too, he’s as lively now 
as a young chipmunk, and we’ll have all we 
can do to keep him down in bed as long as he 
ought to stay. We’ll have to be watching you 
two nurses! What kind of new treatment did 
you use, an3rway? ” 

“ Ask Miss Purcell,” she told him only. 
“ She’s responsible,” 



CHAPTER XXIV 


It was a golden Saturday morning, with 
white-flecked sky. A soft wind stirred the 
branches of the trees. There were not many 
days of the school year left, but so long as they 
should last, Marjory would continue to feel the 
joys of Saturday. To Sundays, because Miss 
Sapphira carried out strictly her old-fashioned 
ideas of their pleasureless observance, the little 
girl did not look forward; and there were parts 
of Saturday which were filled with routine. 
But there were parts, also, in which she could 
do as she pleased, and these times were enough 
to put a halo about the whole day. Saturday 
afternoons were her own. Saturday mornings 
were mainly notable because of the increased 
period of time devoted to the art of sewing. 

The quilt was assuming considerable propor¬ 
tions by this time. The single squares had 
grown into quarter-squares, then into squares 
of quarter-squares. The bright-colored patches 

lay in long lines now. 

201 


202 THE EEAL PRINCESS 

“ You’ll be beating Henry,” said Miss Sap- 
phiraf with an air of pride as she looked down 
upon Marjory’s work that morning. “ He 
didn’t finish his quilt until he was twelve, and 
yours will be done three months before that 
time. Won’t you be proud, though, to show 
that to your children and say that you made it 
before you were twelve! ” 

Marjory glanced up in amazement. Show 
this quilt to—to anybody? Her eyes grew 
dark. 

“Oh—^no!” she breathed, almost without 
thinking. “ Oh, Aunt Sapphira, do you think 
it will last that long? ” she asked fearfully. 
She stared at the quilt cover, waving in crazy 
folds about her on the floor. If it had been 
beautiful embroidery, or even silk pieces—^but 
not these homely squares of gingham cloth, to 
keep through long years and show when she 
was old and gray, as something to be proud of! 

Miss Sapphira looked quite indignant. 
“ Well, what’s the matter with it? ” she asked 
a little sharply. “ I’m sure it’s made just as 
well as Henry’s. I’ve been careful about that. 
And that cloth’s good and strong, all new 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


203 


pieces. It ought to last just exactly as well as 
the quilt up-stairs. Of course we won’t use 
it till it gets real old,” she added as an after¬ 
thought struck her, “ and then only for good, 
because it is something you want to keep.” 

Her needle poised in the air, Marjory looked 
down at the squares under her hand. She 
thought very hard for a moment and then 
lifted her head suddenly. “ Let’s use it right 
off,” she suggested coaxingly. “ Honestly, 
Aunt Sapphira, I don’t care if it doesn’t last. 
Why, I—I could make another one! ” The 
awfulness of such a prospect did not come over 
her until she had thought about it afterward; 
but there was no danger, for Aunt Sapphira 
was firm. 

“Nonsense!” she exclaimed. She had 
brought in from the kitchen a bowl filled with 
potatoes, preparatory to peeling them. Now 
she sat down by the table and vigorously 
started in at her task. “ Why, the idea, Mar¬ 
jory! You don’t seem to understand that you 
haven’t been making this quilt just to get a 
quilt. It’s good for you. You’ve learned to 
sew, and you’ve learned to give a certain 



204 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


amount of time to learning how. And now 
you have this to show for it. Why! ” she 
laughed a little scornfully, “ if it was quilts we 
wanted, I could run up three on the machine in 
the time it took you to make this one. You 
want it to keep, like Henry’s, and to show folks 
what you did when you were eleven years old.” 

The little girl stitched painfully on, making 
no audible reply to these arguments. If it 
could only have been silk work or making lace 
or weaving pillow covers, as she had read of 
little princesses in books doing! 

“ Some day I believe you’ll thank me for 
what I’ve done,” went on Miss Sapphira a 
little reproachfully. ‘‘ Take that new girl on 
the hill, for instance,”—Miriam was always the 
“ new girl ” although every one else had long 
ceased to regard her as such—“ what does she 
know about sewing, and what will she have to 
remember these times by when she was a little 
girl? Running about wild, perfectly free to 
do as she chooses! I tell you, Marjory, why 
don’t you show her your quilt sometime, and 
maybe—^it might just happen so—maybe she 
would like to make one, too. She thinks you’re 



THE EEAL PRINCESS 


205 


just about right, from the looks of it.” The 
lady’s fingers were rapidly at work while she 
spoke. There was a good-natured laxness 
about her lips. Formerly it had been an un¬ 
known occurrence that any of the kitchen work 
should be done outside the kitchen itself; but 
after Marjory’s pleas that it was lonesome in 
the dining-room sewing all alone. Miss Sap- 
phira had at last consented to bring in her work 
and do it in company. Now she foimd herself 
really looking forward to these quiet times with 
her little ward. 

This idea of showing the princess the hated 
quilt was distinctly a repellent one, but Mar¬ 
jory felt that Miss Sapphira would not under¬ 
stand. ‘‘ Maybe—^maybe her aunt wouldn’t 
like it,” she suggested lamely. 

This was not without an element of reason¬ 
ableness. “ Well, maybe not,” assented Miss 
Sapphira comfortably. “ She might think we 
were interfering.” 

A breeze, blowing through the house in a 
sudden gust, slammed to the kitchen door at 
the back of the house. At the same time, the 
closed parlor door behind Miss Sapphira loosed 



206 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


its latch and swung open a little. The sky 
outside was overcast with dark-bottomed 
clouds. 

Miss Sapphira looked around as the parlor 
door opened, a little startled. Her lap was 
full, and she turned to Marjory. 

“ Would you mind closing that door again, 
child? ” she asked. “ I must get that latch 
fixed. It comes loose at the slightest touch.” 

Marjory put her sewing aside and rose to do 
her aunt’s bidding, not without an unexplain¬ 
able qualm. The door was always closed, so 
far as she had observed. The sudden noiseless 
opening just now had seemed to be caused by 
unseen hands behind. The wind was now 
swaying the tree branches outside; yet in fhe 
still air of the house, the same undefinable odor 
that had clung around the history book, now 
came drifting out into the dining-room as she 
approached the door. Within the parlor, be¬ 
hind the drawn shades, all was in gray shadow, 
now grown darker because of the gathering 
clouds outside. Marjory reached for the knob. 
There was a faint rustling of the wind at the 
curtains. She could see a dim gray object in 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


207 


the middle of the room, surmounted by a curi¬ 
ous kind of bump. Suddenly a white thing 
shifted and fluttered to the floor. 

The little girl shrank back. “ Oh, what was 
that?” She turned'appealing eyes to her 
aunt’s back. 

Miss Sapphira dropped her knife and turned 
half-way around in her chair. “ For mercy 
sakes, what’s the matter, child? ” she exclaimed. 
“ You’re white as a sheet. What is it? 
What’s the matter? ” She was getting up now 
and coming toward the parlor door. 

Marjory pointed within. “ Something 
white-” she stammered, “ in there! ” 

“ Humph! It’s nothing to be afraid of, Mar¬ 
jory. I’ll go in and see.” She opened the 
door and crossing the darkened room pulled up 
a window shade. Without, the swaying trees 
were visible through the lace curtains. A sud¬ 
den summer rain was showering down. 

Miss Sapphira stepped forward and picked 
up the “ white something.” Half fearful and 
still trembling, Marjory watched her from the 
threshold. The object was only a sheet of 
paper, blown down from the center table by 



208 THE REAL PRINCESS 

the sudden gust of w,ind which had opened the 
door. 

“ How careless of me not to put that away! ” 
Miss Sapphira was saying as if to herself. 
“ It’s an old letter of Father’s I found in that 
history book I got for you, Marjory, and I was 
careless enough to leave it on the table.” She 
turned to the little girl as she folded up the 
paper. “ You’ve never been in here before, 
have you, child? Come in and look about be¬ 
fore we shut it up again.” 

Marjory was not sure that she wanted to, 
but there seemed to be no alternative. She 
stepped in and looked around at the close, 
crowded room, which she had always connected 
in some unaccountable way with Miss Sap- 
phira’s father and mother. The row of huge 
crayon portraits that stared down at Marjory 
from the walls on every side seemed to carry 
out this idea. That man in the large frame on 
the front wall, almost buried in a wealth of 
black whiskers, must be Miss Sapphira’s father. 
And there was Miss Sapphira’s mother, stem, 
gaunt, forbidding, just as Mar jory had .im¬ 
agined her. 


THE BEAL PEINCESS 


209 


It was the family album and a large Bible 
which made up the “ bump ” that Marjory had 
seen on the center table. A red velvet sofa 
stood against one wall of the parlor, and hard 
little red velvet chairs occupied the comers of 
the room. A large bright-figured carpet 
spread itself out under her feet. In a corner 
at the left of the sofa stood a black-walnut 
what-not, the shelves of which were crowded 
with innumerable small articles, among them 
shells, dishes, fancy books, and a big china dog 
with beady eyes. Next to one of the front 
windows stood a small table, on which was a 
good-sized frame containing a clock face sur¬ 
rounded by flowers. The frame was propped 
against the wall behind the table. Marjory 
gazed at the bewildering room and its contents, 
while Miss Sapphira was dusting off a corner of 
the what-not. The strange odor filled the little 
girl’s nostrils. The portraits stared. Outside 
the rain dripped dismally upon the window 
sills. 

Miss Sapphira was speaking. Her hand 
rested upon the frame containing the clock 
face. 


210 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


“ Did I ever show you these wax flowers 
that the Loyal Leaders sent to Father’s 
funeral? ” she asked. “ See, they’re as perfect 
as the day they were sent.” 

The little girl fixed awed eyes upon the un¬ 
moving petals behind the glass. ‘‘ Is that 
clock going? ” she asked suddenly. 

Miss Sapphira shook her head in silent re¬ 
proof. “ No, no, child,” she said in a lowered 
voice. “ Those hands on the clock show the 
very hour and moment that poor Father died. 
It was on a rainy morning, something like this, 
one moment all sun and the next all rain.” 

Horror-stricken, Marjory gazed at the clock. 
Outside the rain beat down unceasingly. 
There was the low roar of distant thunder. 

“ Right there,” said Miss Sapphira, pointing 
to the space before the two front windows, 
“ was where Father’s coffin stood for the 
funeral. I remember it as plain as day, though 
it was eleven years ago. This room was 
crowded full of people, and the dining-room 
and bedroom too-” 

There was a flash of blinding light. Both 
the woman and the little girl stood like statues 



THE KEAL PRINCESS 211 

in their places. Then a deafening roar shook 
the place. 

“ Oh-oh! ” 

With her hands over both ears, poor Mar¬ 
jory made one flying leap toward Miss Sap- 
phira’s capacious bosom. 


CHAPTER XXV 


Strong arms closed around her. The black 
eyes above Marjory’s head all in an instant 
were soft. 

“ There, there, child! What on earth have 
I been saying all this time! My, that bolt 
must have hit somewhere pretty near by, by 
the sound of it! Let’s look out and see.” She 
drew her little ward with her to one of the front 
windows. Outside the world was emerging 
from its gray blanket. The sudden thunder¬ 
bolt had broken the storm. There was the 
sound of robins’ caroling, and the sky above 
showed a clear fresh blue. The next moment 
the sun shone upon a dripping but refreshed 
world. 

Miss Sapphira reached over and drew up the 
second window shade. She peered out into 
the bright world. 

“ Can’t see that it did any damage around 
here,” she observed in a matter-of-fact tone. 
“ Well, let’s get back to our work, child.” 

They both turned. The sun lay full upon the 

212 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


213 


large portrait which Marjory was sure was 
Miss Sapphira’s mother. 

“ Why! ’’ Marjory’s eyes were wide as they 
caught the light upon the picture. “ Why, 
she—she’s pretty, Aunt Sapphira!” 

It was true. In the darkened parlor, only 
the stern and care-worn lines of the pictured 
face showed to speak its character. Now in 
the full clear light of the sun, the gray eyes 
were warm and tender; they had almost a 
“ mother look,” Marjory thought. The lips 
were just at the point of smiling. A look of 
kindliness softened the whole face. 

Miss Sapphira, with a fadeless picture in her 
heart that needed no light, nodded. “ Mother 
always was pretty,” she said in a pleased tone. 
“ I always thought,” she added, “ that if it 
hadn’t been for Father, we children would have 
had a pretty easy kind of life. Mother was 
almost too easy. She wasn’t any kind of 
housekeeper, in my opinion. She was always 
puttering about her flowers instead.” 

Marjory listened wondering, her eyes still 
upon the face above her. ‘‘ And did she have 
a parlor like this? ” she inquired at length. 



214 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


‘‘ Like—just this way, you mean, Mar¬ 
jory?” Miss Sapphira laughed a little. 
“ Oh, no, there were too many children around 
then. Things would have gotten broken. 
She and Father used to sleep in here and they 
kept the babies in the room I use next to the 
dining-room.” 

“ Then why did you change it? ” Marjory’s 
tone was regretful. 

Miss Sapphira looked about, hesitating. 
“ Well,” she said at last, “ people have parlors 
when they have enough room. I don’t need 
all these things for every day, and they keep 
nice in here. Besides,” she added hastily, I 
thought Mother would like it—anyway. Father 
would—to have a room kept apart like this.” 

“ Aunt Sapphira,” began Marjory a little 
slowly, “ do you think that dead people are all 
selfish? ” The question, once started, came out 
abruptly. 

Miss Sapphira looked at her ward in sur¬ 
prise. “ Of course not, Marjory. What a 
silly idea! ” 

“ I don’t think so, either,” agreed Marjory 
in a happier tone of voice. “ I’ve always 



THE KEAL PEINCESS 


215 


thought my mother—my own mother, you 
know, feels gladdest when I feel glad about 
something. I know that would be the way if 
she were where I could feel and see her—and 
I don’t see why she should change—ever.” 

There was a silence. Miss Sapphira’s face 
was thoughtful. Her eyes fell upon the clock 
in its surroundings of wax flowers. “ I don’t 
suppose Mother would care much for that,” 
she commented half aloud. “ She hated arti¬ 
ficial flowers.” 

“ I think she’d love them if you liked them,” 
cried Marjory. “ She wants you to be happy. 
Aunt Sapphira.” 

‘‘ Well, I never thought whether I liked them 
or not,” her aunt returned quickly. “ They 
always seemed to belong to Father.” She was 
silent a moment. “ Perhaps you are right, 
Marjory,” she said at last. “ It does seem 
more reasonable, maybe, to think they’d like us 
to have things the way we wanted them.” She 
sighed deeply. 

Marjory was scanning each of the faces that 
lined the wall. Then she turned to the lady 
with a question in her eyes. ‘‘ Where is 




216 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


Henry? ” she asked. “ Seems as though he 
ought to be here, too.” 

Miss Sapphira started. “ Why, I told you, 
child, that his picture is in the album, where 
Father wanted it to be. Don’t you remember? 
Goodness me! ” She stopped suddenly and 
sniffed the air. “ Here I’ve gone on talking 
away in here and clear forgot that I left any¬ 
thing on the stove. Those pickles are catching 
on, sure! ” 

She hurried out through the other room, 
Marjory looking after her. The little girl 
made a wry face, sniffing in her turn as her 
aunt had done. “ I don’t see how she could 
smell anything else in this room! ” she thought 
to herself. “ Her nose must be pretty strong 1 ” 

Without conscious intent she wandered over 
to the album on the table and began turning 
its leaves. Henry’s picture was where she had 
left it, shut away in the musty old book with 
the other relatives. His pale blue eyes looked 
out upon the world without interest. Mar¬ 
jory gazed down upon him pityingly. 

It seems a shame they’d shut you away 
here when all the rest of them got a little sun- 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


217 


shine on their faces to-day,” she was saying 
indignantly to herself. 

Even Miss Sapphira, with her nostrils full 
of the fresh pickle fragrance, perceived that 
there was a different atmosphere in the shut- 
up parlor. Coming back again to close up the 
room, she looked at Marjoiy quizzically. The 
little girl had hastily closed the photograph 
album, and now stood idle by the center table, 
half fearful of a reproof. 

“ Smells kind of queer in here, doesn’t it? ” 
said her aunt, to Marjory’s relief. “ Must be 
those pine needles in the cushion Aunt Zarabra 
gave Father, over on that sofa.” 

She went over to the sofa and picked up the 
offending cushion. 

“ I shouldn’t think she’d like to stay in here,” 
ventured Marjory boldly, glancing at the 
portrait of Miss Sapphira’s mother, “ when it 
gets so—so stuffy.” 

Miss Sapphira looked a trifle indignant. 
She hurriedly put the pillow back in its place 
upon the red velvet sofa and went across the 
room to draw down the shades. 

“ Well, I guess it’s time we were getting to 


218 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


work again/’ she remarked crisply, taking no 
notice of the little girl’s comment. “ The 
storm’s over, and it ought to dry off pretty 
quickly, I should think. You left your sewing 
things strung all over the dining-room, Mar¬ 
jory. Don’t forget to pick them up.” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” returned the little girl obedi¬ 
ently. Her finger was still holding the place 
in the album where Henry’s picture was in¬ 
serted. Reluctantly she looked down upon it. 
Reaching up for the second shade, that which 
was to shut off the sunlight from her mother’s 
picture. Miss Sapphira caught the look on the 
little girl’s face. 

‘‘ You’re real fond of Henry, aren’t you, 
child! ” she exclaimed softly. 

Marjory lifted pleading eyes to hers. 

Don’t you think he’d like a little bit of sun¬ 
light, too? ” she asked timidly. “ It seems so 
—so awfully dark in that album.” 

Miss Sapphira could not help laughing at 
this. What a foolish idea! Henrv, who had 
been dead these thirty years, to mind having 
his picture kept in the family album! 

“ Why, I don’t think pictures mind any- 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


219 


thing, one way or another,” she answered prac¬ 
tically. “ That's the best way to keep them 
nice. No, I don’t think Henry would mind 
at all.” 

“ But never to see the sun, or to look at you,” 
insisted Marjory. “ Always to be shut in here 
without any air or light, or any one he knows 
about him! ” 

‘‘Nonsense, child! Get over your silly 
notions! It’s nothing but a picture. Why, a 
person might think that you were talking about 
Henry himself. Now go ahead into the 
dining-room, and I’ll pull down this other 
shade.” 

Feeling that her effort in Henry’s behalf 
had been useless, Marjory went back into the 
dining-room as she was bidden. Her work lay 
just as she had left it when she had gotten up to 
close the parlor door. Never again would she 
feel the same fearful terror when she passed 
the closed door of the front room, for she knew 
now what was behind it. Miss Sapphira’s 
mother was the real mother kind, the kind that 
loved children and flowers. Of course Miss 
Sapphira’s father was in there, too, and it was 


220 


THE KEAL PRmCESS 


true that he was a strange and stern man. 
But he had loved Miss Sapphira’s mother, and 
that fact made him less fearful. Then there 
were Henry and his brothers, but especially 
Henry, shut away in the musty pages of the 
album. There were also the dreadful wax 
flowers and the clock face; and the very spot 
where Miss Sapphira’s father’s coffin had stood 
during the funeral; but how little those things 
mattered when there was a face on the wall 
that could look as Miss Sapphira’s mother did 
when the sunlight shone upon her. Marjory 
smiled a little as she put away her sewing 
things. The bugaboo of the front room had 
been swept away by a single stream of sun¬ 
shine. 

At the door, unseen by Marjory, Miss Sap- 
phira paused an instant and looked back into 
the darkened parlor. Her mother’s portrait 
looked down upon her as it always had, dark, 
care-worn, and grimly stem. Strange that a 
little light could make such a difference, she 
thought. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


“ I’ve got a lovely plan, Marjory,” an¬ 
nounced the princess that afternoon, after the 
two girls had settled themselves for an hour’s 
talk in the orchard next the Huxton house. 
The sun’s hot rays had removed all traces of the 
morning shower. 

“ What is it? ” asked Marjory. 

“ Well, I’ll tell you. Next Tuesday is my 
birthday—I’ll be thirteen years old, just think. 
And Aunt Mabel is going to give a big party 
for me. Won’t it be fun? I’ll have lots of 
the boys and girls that we know in school, and 
then Aunt Mabel is going to invite in a few— 
your aunt and Billy’s—she used to know 
Billy’s aunt a long time ago, you know. Well, 
Aunt Mabel is going to invite them and one or 
two more just to keep her company.” 

“ Oh, how lovely! ” breathed Marjory with 
shining eyes, for she dearly loved festivities. 
“ But when will you have it, Miriam? ” 

“ In the early evening, beginning about six 

o’clock, I think,” answered the princess, “ be- 

221 


222 - THE REAL PRINCESS 

cause you know weTl be in school all after¬ 
noon.” 

“ Oh, do let me help you get ready for it! ” 
begged Marjory. “ Won’t it be lovely to have 
it in your big house, though! ” she enthused. 

“ That’s just what I was going to tell you,” 
returned the princess. “ Aunt Mabel says I 
can have the house fixed any way I like.” 

“ Have it fixed? ” Marjory’s tone was dis¬ 
appointed. “ I thought you meant you 
wanted me to help you do it.” 

“Why, so I do!” exclaimed the princess 
after a moment’s pause. “ It will be lots of 
fun doing it ourselves. I never thought of 
that, and neither did Aunt Mabel. Let’s go 
right up to the house and plan how we’ll 
decorate it.” 

Strangely enough, it had happened that all 
of the children’s visits had taken place in the 
orchard or the big garden on the hill; so that it 
was for the first time since Mr. John had taken 
her and. Billy into the shrouded rooms that 
Marjory found herself inside the imposing 
brick house where Miriam lived. She looked 
about her, marveling, while the princess went 


THE EEAL PEmCESS 


223 


to bring her aunt to share in their consultation. 
Surely, as it looked now, more than ever this 
was just such a house as Marjory had imagined 
a princess might live in. It lacked only the 
stone walls and moat outside to become a castle 
in reality, for inside, to Marjory’s unaccus¬ 
tomed eyes, was all that heart might desire— 
soft rugs, gleaming floors, cool shadowy re¬ 
cesses filled with ferns and statuary, and a 
great winding stairway that invited one to come 
above and discover what further delights the 
great house might hold in store. Marjory was 
so busy trying to tell from what direction came 
the tinkle of a little fountain which she could 
hear, that the princess had actually to give her 
a little shake to obtain an answer to her ques¬ 
tion. 

‘‘ Which, Marjory? ” she repeated. 

Marjory turned around with a start. As 
she did so, she met the amused glance of Miss 
Cauleigh, who had come in answer to the prin¬ 
cess’ summons. But as Marjory faced her, 
she saw the lady’s expression change. Her 
lips parted in astonishment as she gazed at the 
two little girls in blue before her. 


224 


THE EEAL PEmCESS 


“ Why, what’s the matter, Aunt Mabel? ” 
questioned Miriam anxiously. 

Her aunt laughed nervously, and turned 
away. “ It’s nothing, of course,” she an¬ 
swered. “ My imagination certainly plays 
queer tricks on me lately,” she added under her 
breath, but she did not cease to observe Mar¬ 
jory narrowly at intervals during all the time 
that the little girl spent in the house that after¬ 
noon. She encountered the glance once or 
twice, and felt as uncomfortable under it as she 
did that long-ago day when Billy’s aunt had 
acted so strangely upon meeting her; but the 
princess gave small opportunity for vague 
wonderings, and Marjory soon forgot about 
the cause of them. 

“ I was just asking which you think would 
be prettier—tissue-paper decorations, around 
the walls and chandeliers, and between the 
rooms, you know—or branches of leaves and 
flowers ? ” questioned Miriam. 

“ Oh, the leaves would be ever so much pret¬ 
tier,” returned Marjory quickly. 

‘‘ Well, you remember that grove of maple 
and linden trees just at the foot of the hill; we 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


225 


can get all the branches we want there. If 
you’ll come over after school Tuesday after¬ 
noon, we can go and get them then.” 

While Marjory and the princess were deep 
in the plans for the big party, Miriam’s aunt 
had hurried out to the garden to find Mr. John, 
for her curiosity was aroused, and she was de¬ 
termined to satisfy it before she dropped the 
subject. She would make sure of this matter 
for once and for all. 

“ John,” she began abruptly, coming upon 
the old gardener, bent, as usual, over one of his 
thrifty flower beds, “ where did that child come 
from? ” 

The gardener looked up in surprise, and 
then gazed about him. He met Miss Cauleigh’s 
questioning gaze blankly. “ What child? ” he 
asked. 

“ That little girl that knows you so well— 
Marjory, I believe her name is.” 

“ Oh, Marjory Huxton? She’s a nice little 
girl, ma’am—lives with a nice woman. You 
needn’t worry about her not being good com¬ 
pany for-” 

“ Oh, I know, I know,” broke in the lady 




226 


THE EEAL PKI:^^CESS 


impatiently, “ but who is she? It seems as if I 
must have seen her before.” 

“ Can’t be so, ma’am. She’s never been far 
away from here in her life, that I know of; 
she’s spent all the time but the last eight 
months or so in the orphan asylum up in the 
city.” 

“ In an orphan asylum? ” commented Miss 
Cauleigh eagerly. “ Is Huxton her real 
name? ” 

“ Huxton? Why, I gTiess not, but I’m not 
sure,” returned the gardener slowly. “Miss 
Huxton is the lady who brought her out to 
adopt her, and I reckon she took her name.” 

“ To adopt her! Has she adopted her? ” 

“ Not yet, but I hear she’s meanin’ to. She 
can give her a good home, ma’am, and as I said, 
she’s a nice child. It’s the best thing can be 
done-” 

“ Well, thank you, John. I was just won¬ 
dering-” and the lady was hurriedly mov¬ 

ing down the path, leaving the gardener to mop 
his perspiring forehead in consternation. His 
mild blue eyes looked after her retreating 
figure. 




THE KEAL PEINCESS 


227 


“ Well now, I swan! What on earth is she 
meanin’ to do? ” he wondered, as he bent again 
over the beds. ‘‘ Maybe she’s plannin’ to 
adopt her herself! ” he conjectured jokingly. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


There were many details of the party’s 
program to be decided upon and all too little 
time in which to discuss them. On Monday 
afternoon after school Marjory accompanied 
the princess all the way home from school up 
the hill into the big garden, both talking mean¬ 
while in deep absorption about the next day’s 
event. 

The weather promised to be fine, if to-day 
was a sample. The garden on the hill was 
about to burst into its summer glory. The 
rose beds were fragrant with their tangle of 
luxuriant blooms—even Mr. John could make 
no complaint about how the roses bloomed this 
year! A high hedge of spirea lined the garden 
walls and spread out its graceful sprays of 
bloom in a white shower. There were broad 
beds of waving poppies, red and pink and yel¬ 
low and white, each little flower nodding like a 
tall young queen from its slender stem. The 

Canterbury bells shook their blue blossoms in 

228 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


229 


the gentle summer wind, and even the forget- 
me-nots along the borders of the walks lifted 
grateful laughing eyes to the sun. 

Mr. John was bent over a seedling bed of 
clove pinks when the two girls came along the 
garden walk toward the arbor. He straight¬ 
ened up at their approach, and they stopped 
a moment to talk with him. 

“ Is it going to rain to-morrow, Mr. John? 
asked Miriam anxiously, for the moment for¬ 
getful of the beauty of the garden in her 
anxiety to keep its perfectness. As for Mar¬ 
jory, a huge content filled her at the sight of 
the waving blossoms. What a garden for a 
princess! 

Mr. John leaned back upon his heels. He 
looked at the children and then scanned the 
sky meditatively. “ Well, now,” he began, “ I 
can’t say as ’tis, and yet I can’t say as ’tisn’t.” 
Mr. John was never a very satisfactory 
weather prophet; Miriam might have remem¬ 
bered that. He was altogether too cautious. 
“ Appears to me, though,” he added, “ if you 
were to ask how it looks to me, it looks very 
much as if it was goin’ to be fine.” 


230 


TILE EEAL PEINCESS 


Miriam clapped her hands. “ Oh, it must, 
it must!” she cried, jumping up and down. 
“ Oh, it couldn’t rain in just a day, when it’s 
like this the day before, could it, Mr. John? ” 

“ Generally the maple leaves turn up and 
show their under sides,” affirmed Mr. John 
solemnly, “ if it’s goin’ to rain very soon. Now 
you can see for yourself that no such thing’s 
happenin’ to them.” 

Marjory, on the other side of the old gar¬ 
dener, examined the maple leaves critically. 
“ They’re right side up, all right,” she agreed 
gladly. 

“ And there’ll be lots of roses out for the 
party, won’t there? ” Miriam craned her neck 
to peep at the blossom-laden rows on the other 
side of the garden. “ Oh, Mr. John, would it 
hurt to pick a few, just a few, right off?” 

Mr. John took off his hat and wiped his per¬ 
spiring brow. A crinkle appeared beneath his 
eyebrows. “ Now who do you mean,—would 
it hurt you or would it hurt the roses? ” he 
asked. Then he smiled outright. “ Why, 
no,” he assented kindly. “ I can’t see that it 
would hurt anything to pick some roses. I 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


231 


was just thinking it would do the branches 
good to be trimmed out a little. Best leave 
the most of them till the dew’s on them in the 
mornin’, though,” he cautioned. ‘‘ They keep 
their freshness longest so.” 

“ ITl run get the scissors, then, and won’t be 
but a minute,” said Miriam, starting off on fly¬ 
ing feet toward the house. ‘‘ Back in just a 
minute, Marjory! ” 

Marjory was well content to wait for any¬ 
thing in this wonderful garden, which had as¬ 
sumed such a different aspect upon its owners’ 
return. The silent sleepy house had awakened; 
instead of fast closed shutters gay awnings 
spread themselves at every window. The 
garden itself seemed to have taken on new life, 
as if it had responded with an outburst of bloom 
when it heard children’s feet walk up and down 
its brick paths. 

“ How’s Billy getting along? ” 

The question broke in upon her revery with 
startling suddenness. Marjory turned around 
quickly. Mr. John was on his knees again, 
setting out the young plants with careful and 
skilled hands. 


232 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


“ He’s getting along splendidly,” answered 
the little girl. “ It won’t be very many weeks 
now before he can come home again.” 

“ Going to get his leg all fixed up, eh?” 
asked Mr. John with friendly interest. 
“ S’pose he’ll be runnin’ around like the best 
of us, next time we see him.” 

“My, won’t he be glad to, though!” ex¬ 
claimed Marjory. “ He’s hated those crutches 
ever since he’s had them. He’s never been 
lame in his mind, even if he was in his hip—'not 
as long as I’ve known him.” 

“ You’re right there, lass,” agreed Mr. John 
heartily. “ There weren’t any crooks in Billy’s 
mind, that’s a sure thing. Some old folks 
could take pattern from him,” he added gruffly. 
Then he looked up at Marjory with keen eyes. 
He had not seen her alone since the arrival of 
the princess. “ How’re you getting along, 
Marj’ry? ” he asked. “ Your aunt’s pretty 
good to you, is she? Are you still makin’ 
quilts? ” There was a twinkle in his eye. 

Marjory smiled faintly. “ Aunt Sapphira 
takes very good care of me,” she answered a 
little primly. “ And the quilt’s almost done,” 



THE KEAL PRINCESS 233 

she finished. There was some restraint in her 
tone. 

Mr. John hastened to another subject. 
“ Miss Cauleigh was askin’ me about you/’ he 
told her in a low voice. “Asked me in so 
many words if you were with Miss Sapphira to 
stay. Acted kind of funny, cut me off short¬ 
like, you know. Wonder what she wanted to 
know for.” 

The little girl stared at him. “ About me? ” 
she repeated. 

“ Um,” assented Mr. John, going back to 
his planting. “ It occurred to me, maybe she’s 
thinkin’ of adoptin’ ye herself!” 

Marjoiy stood beside him wordless. There 
was nothing that she could say about such an 
idea. The wonder of it almost overwhelmed 
her. To come up here on the hill and live 
with Miriam! Oh, it couldn’t be! Why, Miss 
Cauleigh wouldn’t want another child that 
wasn’t her own. 

“ Did she say so? ” she managed to ask after 
a few moments, the words coming slowly and 
distinctly. 

Mr. John leaned back again, a little taken 


234 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


aback by the effect of his careless speech. 
‘'No, no,” he hurriedly answered. “ Nothing 
of the kind, Marj’ry. I was jokin’, every 
minute I said that. It’s just as likely she 
wants to know if somebody else can adopt ye. 
Maybe it’s a friend of hers. She’s got lots of 
’em in the city,” he added, seeing that he must 
make amends somehow for his rash statement. 

The sky turned as black for Marjory as the 
moment before it had turned golden. If the 
other possibility was like a dream of heaven, 
this was a suggestion of the darkest of calami¬ 
ties. It would mean going away, leaving Miss 
Sapphira’s house, leaving the princess- 

The old gardener was wishing he had kept 
his peace. “ A shame on me! ” he was telling 
himself indignantly, “ for botherin’ the little 
young one! Fix it up quick, ye beast, you 1 ” 
Aloud he said, “ There, Marj’ry, listen, I 
shouldn’t have told ye anything. I didn’t 
know ye cared so much either way. Now I’ll 
tell vou what we’ll do. You can listen and see 
if it suits ye. You see I don’t know anything 
for sure. I just have my suspicions up, as ye 
might say, ’count of Miss Cauleigh’s askin’ me 



THE KEAL PKINCESS 235 

like that—and that isn’t the first time she’s 
done it, Marj’ry. We’ll leave it this way: the 
minute I hear anything for sure I’ll let you 
know and you can rush to Miss Sapphiry and 
tell her to be quick and keep you under her 
care for good. She kin have ye by law, ye 
know, Marj’ry, where nobody kin get ye.” 
In his earnestness, the old gardener got to his 
feet and looked down anxiously at the terror- 
stricken child. 

Marjory nodded violently. The princess 
was running down the path. There was no 
time for words. 

“ I couldn’t find them, just at first,” panted 
Miriam, coming up to them, garden shears in 
hand. “ Why, Marjory, what’s the matter? 
You look so terribly solemn. What have you 
been talking about? ” She glanced curiously 
first at Marjory and then at Mr. John’s broad 
back, for the old gardener was once more 
wielding his trowel. 

‘‘ ’Spect Marjory’d feel pretty bad if it did 
rain to-morrow,” he drawled, before Marjory 
could speak. 

‘‘ Do you think it’s going to, now? What 



236 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


makes you think so? ” Miriam was completely 
taken in by the serious tone of the gardener’s 
voice. She scanned the fleckless sky, and then 
made an anxious survey of the maple trees 
that lined the garden. She turned back to the 
other two, perplexity written upon her face. 
“ Why, it looks just the same as it did to me,” 
she aflirmed. “ What makes you think it’s 
going to rain, Mr. John? ” 

The old gardener chuckled. “ Who said 
’twas goin’ to? ” he denied in mock indignation. 

I said Marjory’d feel pretty bad if it did! ” 
The princess’ brow cleared as she looked into 
Marjory’s face, for the latter was smiling now. 
There surely was no reason in predicting 
stormy weather when there was not a cloud to 
be seen in the sky, either for birthday parties or 
for life ahead of a little adopted girl. JVJarjoiy 
believed in enjoying the sunshine while she 
could. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


Miriam’s birthday proved to be a cool, 
pleasant day, perfect in every respect for the 
festivities planned in her honor. Marjory and 
she gleefully read and re-read the acceptances 
that had been pouring in upon her, in response 
to the dainty little invitations that Miss Cau- 
leigh had sent. 

After school, as they had planned, the two 
girls hurried down to the little grove at the 
foot of the hill to gather their branches for 
decorating the rooms. Miriam had laughed at 
her aunt’s prophecy that the task of carrying 
the branches up the hill to the house would be 
one of which they would soon weary; on the 
contrary, the girls insisted on carrying out the 
decorating project entirely by their own efforts, 
and under their quick hands, the great rooms 
began to take on the desired arbor effect. The 
lights were shielded by soft green tissue-paper 
shades and promised, for their true effect could 
not be realized until it grew dark, to lend a 

soft cool glow to the scene. 

237 


238 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


It was upon the last trip for branches that 
disaster met them. Most of the branches 
within reach that were of suitable shape had 
been used, and the girls were obliged to climb 
up into the lower limbs of the trees tO' get 
others. It was when Marjory was in the act of 
climbing gingerly out on one long branch to 
reach an especially fine cluster of leaves, that 
the princess below her heard the branch give 
an ominous cracking sound. She called out 
in quick warning, but the rotten limb was 
already breaking. And perceiving her danger, 
Marjory stepped back hastily, avoiding a fall 
with the branch; but in so doing her ankle 
turned and she slipped. 

“Oh, Marjory!” mourned the princess, 
when she was allowed to speak to her. Mar¬ 
jory was lying on a couch in the dainty pink 
and white bedroom next to the princess’ very 
own, where she had been taken after her fall. 
“ Isn’t it a shame? What will become of my 
party? ” 

“ I’m just as sorry as you are,” returned 
Marjory, who in spite of the mishap could not 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 239 

conceal her delight in the pretty furnishings 
about her. 

“ The only thing that can possibly make up 
for it,” went on the princess, “ is that you’ll 
stay here with me until your ankle gets well.” 

Marjory was looking about eagerly. 

“ Whose room is this, anyway, Miriam? It 
looks as if it belonged to somebody. It’s just 
like yours, only yours is in blue and white, 
isn’t it? ” 

“ Yes. Of course we don’t talk very much 
about it because Aunt Mabel doesn’t like to. 
You remember I told you once that I had a 
sister, don’t you? Well, this is her room.” 

Marjory looked at her in puzzled fashion. 
“ But I thought that she died a long time ago. 
That’s what Mr. John said.” 

“ She did. It’s just that Aunt Mabel likes 
to keep her room all pretty and fresh just as 
if she were coming hack to it any moment. 
You know my room in there,” the princess 
waved her hand toward an adjoining door, 
“ was all ready for me when I came, and Aunt 
Mabel didn’t find me till long after the room 
was fixed for me.” 


240 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


Marjory was silent for an interval, thinking 
what a joy the princess’ sister had missed in not 
being able to occupy this lovely room. Here 
was all that any girl’s heart might long for— 
the dainty white ivory furnishings^ the thick 
velvet rug, the little white desk with its pretty 
lamp and ivory writing-set, the great easy- 
chairs filled with soft cushions, the wide win¬ 
dows with their lovely view of forest and wind¬ 
ing river—^but best of all, in Marjory’s eyes, 
was the sister of her very own whom the oc¬ 
cupant of this room would possess. What 
happy hours they might have spent together! 
Marjory’s eyes glowed as she thought of it; 
but her musings were interrupted by the 
princess whispering excitedly in her ear. 

“ I tell you what let’s do, Marjory! Let’s 
pretend that you are my really, truly sister. 
We won’t tell Aunt Mabel, so she won’t mind. 
Or perhaps-” the princess hesitated, over¬ 

come by the daring of the thought. “ I know 
she likes you—perhaps—oh, wouldn’t it be 
splendid if we could—adopt you? ” 

Marjory looked at her friend in unconcealed 
amazement. “ Why-” she stammered, but 






THE KEAL PEINCESS 


241 


she remembered what Mr. John had told her, 
and hesitated. Perhaps there were other plans 
in store for her. What the princess had sug¬ 
gested would be too beautiful, too wonderful 
to be true. But what if Miss Cauleigh were 
planning the alternative that Mr. John had 
suggested? Marjory’s heart grew heavy. 
“ Why, I—I don’t know what Aunt Sapphira 
would say,” she concluded haltingly. 

“ Oh, she can get some one else,” interrupted 
the princess earnestly. “ It wouldn’t matter 
whom she had, but we want you because^—^well, 
because you’re you,” she finished. 

The princess’ aunt interrupted their discus¬ 
sion at this juncture. She surveyed the two 
excited faces disapprovingly. 

“ Miriam, I’m afraid you’re wearing the 
child out,” she protested, disregarding the 
denial that Marjory quickly offered. ‘‘ I had 
a caller or I should have come up sooner. I 
wanted to see the doctor, too, but I suppose he 
will be in again this evening. How does your 
ankle feel, Marjory? ” 

“ It aches a little, but not much. I had 
almost forgotten about it.” 



242 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


“You two must have been talking about 
something very absorbing. Was it the party ? ” 

“ Oh, no, Aunt Mabel, that’s all decided,” re¬ 
turned the princess eagerly. “ I suppose we’ll 
have to have it just the same, but I don’t care 
half as much about it now that Marjory can’t 
be there. We were talking about something 
ever so much more interesting, and—and 
lovely, and it all depends on whether you say 
‘ yes ’ or not. Oh, do say yes. Aunt Mabel! ” 
she begged, taking her aunt’s hands entreat- 
ingly. 

Miss Cauleigh laughed, but there was a 
strange mistiness in her eyes now every time 
that she looked at Marjory. “Is it a hair- 
ribbon like Marjory’s that you want now, 
dear? ” she asked jokingly. 

“ Oh, no!” The little girl’s tone was em¬ 
phatic. “ Aunt Mabel, why—why can’t Mar¬ 
jory come to live with us—and have this 
room? ” 

To Miriam’s secret wonder, her aunt did not 
immediately discountenance this idea, nor even 
seem surprised at it. Instead she merely 
smiled again in the same misty way, and as 




THE KEAL PEINCESS 243 

Miriam gazed at her in troubled wonder, she 
saw her aunt’s eyes slowly fill with tears. 

“ I—I had a caller this morning, and we 
talked over—^well, old times,” she explained a 
little lamely. ‘‘ It was Miss Barnard, that 
little boy’s aunt. I had no idea she was living 
here yet. But about Marjory, dear,” she went 
on, seeing the question in Miriam’s eyes still 
unanswered, “I’m sure we love her very much, 
—but we mustn’t decide such a thing hastily. 
She must stay here till her ankle is healed, any¬ 
way. That will give her plenty of time to get 
tired of us.” 

“ Oh, indeed, I sha’n’t ever be that,” pro¬ 
tested Marjory shyly, but both girls could not 
conceal their curiosity at the hint of something 
unexplained in Miss Cauleigh’s manner. 

“ We’ll give your friends a good time this 
evening as we planned, and we can decide other 
things later,” she said, rising to go. “ I am 
planning to spend to-morrow in the city, 
though, so you two must be thinking of some 
amusement for Marjory during school hours.” 

Marjory could not restrain a sigh when the 
sound of music and merry familiar voices came 


244 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


up to her that evening from the rooms below. 
And yet, she reasoned, the assurance of a six- 
weeks’ stay in the beautiful surroundings about 
her with the daily companionship of the 
princess and her aunt went very far toward 
making up for the disappointment which she 
felt in missing the party. 

“ Besides,” she argued, “ princesses don’t 
fret and worry at every little thing that comes 
along. Think of Billy, and the way he stands 
things, and never let me hear you grumbling 
again, Marjory Huxton! ” 

So it was that, when the princess hurried up 
to talk over the grand party with her guest, 
after it was all over, she found Marjory with 
her thoughts far away from the subject of 
parties or even beautiful bedrooms, for she was 
fast asleep. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


It was a new world upon which Marjory 
awoke the next morning. For some moments 
after she had opened her eyes, she wondered 
dimly if she could still be dreaming. Where 
was she, and to whom did this beautiful room 
with its wide windows belong? Then a sud-' 
den twinge from her left ankle brought the 
happenings of yesterday back to her in a flash. 
The next moment there was a swift step on the 
other side of the room, and then the princess 
was at her side. 

‘‘ Oh, I thought you’d never wake up, Mar¬ 
jory! ” she greeted her. “ I got up especially 
early just so we could talk a lot before school 
time, and you slept on and on. Aunt Mabel 
said I wasn’t to wake you if you were asleep, 
but you’re not asleep now, are you? ” 

Marjory smiled hack at her sudden anxiety. 
“ Xo, indeed,” she said. ‘‘ I’m as wide awake 

as you are. Just for a minute I couldn’t tell 

245 


246 THE EEAL PKINCESS 

where I was. This is such a lovely room, 
Miriam! ” 

Miriam sat down on the edge of the bed. 
She seemed to be full of suppressed excitement 
and the subject of the room did not interest 
her. “ I’ve just been thinking, Marjory,” she 
began hurriedly, “ about that adopting busi¬ 
ness. I believe I thought about it nearly all 
night—oh, of course,” she broke off, “ not while 
I was sleeping! But a great deal, anyway. 
I don’t see any reason why it can’t be done, 
not any reason in the world. Of course Aunt 
Mabel’s gone to the city to-day, but the minute 
she comes back, I’m going to beg and beg her, 
and just let her see how much in earnest I 
am!” 

The other little girl, lying back on the big 
• pillows, did not immediately reply, nor show 
the enthusiasm for which Miriam was looking. 
It was evident that their sudden plan did not 
seem so possible to her as it had in the first flush 
of excitement. It was true that she had not 
had much opportunity to think very hard upon 
the subject; one does not do much careful plan¬ 
ning during the first day of a severely sprained 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


247 


ankle. Underneath her thoughts, though, she 
now had the feeling that it never, never could 
be. 

Miriam watched her anxiously. “ Don’t 
you think we could do it, Marjory? ” she en¬ 
treated. 

Marjory shook her head slowly. “ I’m afraid 
Miss Sapphira would never consent,” she said 
mournfully. “ She has the first right, you 
know, Miriam. And she’s really adopted me 
for good.” Marjory believed she was speak¬ 
ing the truth. 

“ Yes, I know,” said Miriam impatiently. 
“ But if she saw how much we wanted you and 
nobody else, when she could just as well get 
along with some other girl that she could find, 
why, how could she say no? ” Here Miriam’s 
tone exhibited a trait which, if the truth must 
be told, was growing daily more apparent. 
Miriam was becoming spoiled. She was rarely 
denied anything by her indulgent aunt, who 
seemed to think that nothing could be too good 
for her little niece. Now the princess had set 
her heart upon this thing, and she meant to 
have it. 


248 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


JMarjory was silent, her gaze fixed upon the 
blue sky which showed through the wide-open 
window across from her bed. The princess 
could not conceal her impatience. 

“You aren’t sure she wouldn’t let you come, 
Marjory! ” she burst out. “ You couldn’t be 
till you’d asked her. She certainly doesn’t act 
as if she cared so terribly much. Why, when 
Aunt Mabel telephoned to her last night before 
dinner to tell her about your ankle, she wasn’t 
a bit excited. She said she always knew that 
you’d have something happen to you climbing 
around in the orchard trees, and she wasn’t 
surprised that it had happened somewhere else. 
She said of course you could stay up here if 
you’d been invited. It w^ould give her a chance 
to give your room a good cleaning. Now that 
doesn’t sound terribly affectionate, does it, 
Marjory? ” 

Marjory’s eyes had been fixed upon the 
princess steadily as she made this report. 
There was a little color in her cheeks as the 
bluntness of the speech came to her with full 
force. Well she remembered how she too had 
listened to harsh speech when she had first 


THE REAL PRINCESS 


249 


arrived at Miss Sapphira’s. Of late, curi¬ 
ously enough, the lady never spoke that way 
directly to the little girl. Yet with strangers. 
Aunt Sapphira steadily maintained that curi¬ 
ous abruptness of manner, as if they had in 
some way affronted her. 

“ Does it? ” Miriam was repeating. 

“ Maybe—maybe she didn’t mean it just that 
way,” stammered Marjory. 

The princess was surveying her in open per¬ 
plexity. “ Why, don’t you even want to try 
to come to live with us? ” she asked. 

Marjory looked helplessly around at the 
beautiful room with its dainty furnishings. 
To sit at that little desk and write her very own 
letters, to call these pictures hers, every day to 
look down upon the cool garden where the 
princess walked! Best of all, to live here next 
to Miriam—did she not want it? There was 
but one answer. 

“ Of course I do,” she asserted. Then again 
the heavy feeling filled her heart. “ It—it just 
seems kind of—kind of selfish,” she finished 
uncertainly. 

“ Do you think Miss Sapphira would— 


250 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


mind? ” asked the princess aghast. Such a 
thought had not entered her head. That the 
lady could feel affection for any living thing 
was not in the princess’ idea of her. 

Marjory had thought so, but on looking at 
it from Miriam’s point of view, she could see 
how silly and conceited in her that would look 
to any one else. Besides, Miss Sapphira had 
never said in so many words that she cared 
about her little ward. Perhaps—probably she 
didn’t. 

“ Oh, I guess not,” she answered carelessly, 
and- gave herself over fully to the rapturous 
idea of coming into this lovely home as a real 
member of it. ‘‘ A¥liat do you think we could 
do about it—just we two? ” she asked, bright¬ 
ening. 

Miriam took heart. “ Well,” she replied, her 
old enthusiasm returning, “ maybe we could 
find out things about adopting before Aunt 
Mabel got back, and put them down, you know, 
and then show them to her on a piece of paper, 
so that she would see that they were true. I, 
why I could look it up in the dictionary down¬ 
stairs and in the encyclopedia, too ”—she 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


251 


glanced hurriedly at her wrist-watch—“My! 
I’ll have to be starting for school pretty soon. 
I tell you, I’ll go down and get the books, and 
you can be writing down what you can find in 
them about it while I’m at school.” 

This seemed a good idea, and Miriam hurried 
off on her literary quest. She was not long in 
returning, her step on the stairs being a rather 
slow and heavy one. Presently she appeared, 
her arms weighed down with the big dictionary 
from the library down-stairs. This she de¬ 
posited on Marjory’s bed. Then she went in 
search of the encyclopedia. 

When she had arranged both volumes on the 
bed within easy reach of Marjory, a sudden 
thought struck her. 

“ Well! ” she exclaimed. “ I forgot that the 
doctor’ll be here about ten o’clock to look at 
your ankle. Mrs. Best will let him in when 
he comes and bring him up.” She pondered 
a moment, standing beside Marjory’s bed, both 
hands buried in her gingham pockets. “ I 
know! ” she concluded, hurrying across the 
room tow^ard a straight-backed chair. “ I’ll 
put the books on this chair beside you, so they 


252 


THE EEAL PEmCESS 


won’t be in the way when the doctor comes. 
Here is a pencil and some paper, and you can 
put down everything you find out. Why, 
maybe Miss Sapphira hasn’t adox^ted you in the 
right way, or maybe she could give the papers 
to us or something. These are the things we 
want to find out, Marjory.” 

After she had arranged the books and chair 
to her liking, she bade Marjory good-bye and 
started to school. For a few moments Mar¬ 
jory had the feeling of being left alone upon a 
desert island, but after that she really began 
to settle down to the enjoyment of the lovely 
room and its pretty furnishings. 

When the doctor came at the appointed hour, 
he and the housekeeper found a flushed-faced 
little girl scribbling furiously out of a big book. 

“ Well, well! Hard at the books, anyway? ” 
joked the doctor, taking the chair which the 
housekeeper had drawn out for him. “ See 
that you don’t overwork, young lady! ” He 
bent to an examination of the injured ankle. 

As she submitted to the unbandaging, the 
thought of Billy suddenly flashed across Mar¬ 
jory’s mind. There were twinges of pain now 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


253 


and then, even though the doctor’s touch was 
gentle and sure. Billy must have had to bear 
many times greater pain than this. Marjory 
resolutely boarded her own cloak and traveled 
to the land of Where-She-Should-Live-with- 
the-Princess. 

“Bravo, little girl!” burst upon her ears 
suddenly. “ Those things hurt, and you’re a 
true Indian about it. Now there’s a daily 

treatment-” He turned to Mrs. Best, 

and gave her details as to the massage and 
bandaging of the hurt ankle. Then he picked 
up his medicine-case and rose. 

“ It’s a good thing you like hooks, Marjory,” 
he told her in parting. “ There’ll be quite a 
little while now when that’s the only way you’ll 
have of getting about the world.” He caught 
sight of the encyclopedia that Marjory had just 
laid down, and chuckled. “ When you get 
through with that book, you’d better try some¬ 
thing more exciting.” 

Marjory smiled back at him. She had no 
fears on that score. Life was becoming quite 
as exciting as she could stand, even though she 
was lying quietly here in bed. 



CHAPTER XXX 


«* feLt 






It must be said of Miriam that her attention 
in school that day was not at all what Miss 
Borden could ask. Marjory’s empty seat 
across the aisle was a constant reminder of the 
exciting subject which was uppermost in both 
their minds. Then, too, Miriam had been 
seized by this idea that in some way they could 
find out in books on the subject whether or not 
the bonds by which Miss Sapphira held claim 
to Marjory could be easily broken. She had 
become accustomed to her aunt’s consulting 
the various books in their home library for in¬ 
formation concerning topics for her club 
papers, and to go ahead and do the same thing 
on any subject seemed the most natural thing 
in the world. 

She resolved to visit the public library, a 
block away from the schoolhouse, before the 
morning was very far advanced. The moment 
school was dismissed at noon, she hurried up 

the street toward the building, and found it 

264 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


255 


deserted except for the young assistant who 
had been left in charge for the noon hour, 

For several moments, Miriam made her way 
unaided through two dictionaries and one en¬ 
cyclopedia. What she found in all of them, 
varying in length, of course, gave her little sat¬ 
isfaction. The encyclopedia was difficult read¬ 
ing and seemed to have no bearing on the sub¬ 
ject in which she was most interested. She had 
small hopes of Marjory’s attaining any greater 
degree of success after her own attack on the 
ponderous volumes strewn about her. She sat 
silent a moment, staring at the closely printed 
lines in the encyclopedia. Then she got up and 
crossed over to the librarian’s desk. The as¬ 
sistant, a young girl only recently graduated 
from the High School, was bent over a drawer¬ 
ful of library cards. She looked up as Miriam 
came near. 

‘‘ Have you any books in the library on 
adoption? ” asked the little girl anxiously. 

The library assistant looked puzzled. 
“Adoption? ” she repeated. “ What kind of 
adoption? ” 

“ Adopting children—little girls,” explained 


256 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


Miriam briefly. “ Haven’t you any books that 
tell how they are adopted? ” 

The girl at the desk had not had a long ex¬ 
perience at the library. Her main resources, 
as in Miriam’s case, were the dictionaries and 
encyclopedias. She came through the swing¬ 
ing door that shut the desk away from the 
reading-room and started in the direction of 
the reference shelf. 

Miriam anticipated her. “ I’ve already 
looked in those,” she told her companion. “ I 
wondered if there wouldn’t be a book about 
it—a little book that wouldn’t be so hard to 
read, you know,” she said in a hopeful tone. 

The girl wheeled about and turned to the 
catalogue at one side of the desk. ‘‘ Maybe 
there’s something in here,” she said, pulling out 
the drawer labeled “ A.” Miriam waited 
while she went over the cards. 

‘‘ There doesn’t seem to be any book just on 
that subject alone,” said the assistant. Glanc¬ 
ing around at Miriam, she read the disappoint¬ 
ment in her eyes. “ How much did you have 
to find out? ” she asked. ‘‘About the history 
of it, or what people do when they adopt a 



THE KEAL PRINCESS 


257 


child? ” She seemed to think this a strange 
subject for a little girl to be inquiring about. 
She looked at Miriam curiously. 

“ Yes, 3^es—that last,” assented Miriam with 
eagerness,—“ about what people do who adopt 
somebody.” 

Well, I don’t believe there’s any book about 
that in the library,” said the girl conclusivel3\ 
She thought a moment. “ I tell you what you 
could do,” she said then. “ There’s a lady in 
town who did adopt a little girl. She’s Miss 
Sapphira Huxton, on IMaple Street. You 
might go and ask her what you want to know. 
I’m sure she’d be glad to tell you.” 

This bold idea had never once occurred to 
Miriam. It did not sound so bad, coming as it 
did as advice from the assistant librarian. Miss 
Sapphira need not know just why she wanted 
to investigate the subject. It wasn’t so good 
a way as finding out by a book, but it was 
better than no way at all. She turned toward 
the door. 

“ All right,” she answered. ‘‘ Thank you 
very much for looking, I’m sure.” 

“ She lives in that white house next to a big 


258 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


orchard on Maple Street,” called the assistant 
after her. “ Tell her I sent you to her, and it 
will be all right, I’m sure.” 

Miriam decided that if she made haste she 
might be able to get the errand done, reach 
home in time for a late lunch, and get back to 
school again before the school bell rang. The 
June sun shone hot upon the street. The roses 
were a-bloom all over town, quite as riotously 
as they were blossoming in the big garden at 
home. Their fragrance filled the air. The 
world was very beautiful just now; Miriam 
thought how beautiful it would be if Marjory 
could stay on with her at the big house on the 
hill through the long summer days, on through 
the winter and spring, and for always. 

“Miss Sapphira just must! She must!” 
she avowed to herself as she hurried along the 
shady walk up Maple Avenue. 

She caught a glimpse of the lady in question, 
just as the latter was emerging from around 
the side of the house with a broom in her hand. 
Vigorously, with wide inclusive motions, she 
began to sweep off the tiny front porch. She 
was at work on the steps when Miriam came 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 259 

up; and she recognized the little girl immedi¬ 
ately. 

“ Well, I was just wondering if anybody 
was going to let me know how Marjory’s get¬ 
ting along! ” she said abruptly, fixing her black 
eyes upon Miriam. “ What’s the news? Is 
she all right? Is she keeping off her foot? Is 
she using arnica and hot water? ” 

The torrent of questions found Miriam un¬ 
prepared. The brusque voice, the black eyes 
scanning her face so sharply, as well as Miss 
Sapphira’s militant attitude as she stood there, 
with her broom in hand, combined to drive the 
little girl’s plans quite out of her head. 

“ She’s getting along all right,” said Miriam 
in a low voice. She stopped at the short walk 
leading up to the house and began to twist her 
handkerchief nervously. 

“ Don’t stand out there. Come up here 
where I can hear you,” commanded the lady on 
the piazza, following up her words with a 
gesture of her hand. 

Miriam obeyed. Like Marjory, she consid¬ 
ered that there was nothing else to do. 

“Well, how is she? You haven’t told me 


260 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


anything yet/’ insisted the lady, continuing to 
sweep the steps vigorously. 

Miriam glanced uncertainly about her. If 
she only had not come! But the black eyes 
were again fixed upon her, demanding an an¬ 
swer to the question. 

“ She’s got to be in bed a long, long time,” 
said Miriam with some resentment in her voice. 
“ She’s in my sister’s bedroom right next to 
mine.” 

‘‘Your sister’s! I didn’t know you had a 
sister, Miriam.” 

“ She died when I was little, but Aunt Mabel 
keeps her room for her just the same,” an¬ 
swered Miriam reluctantly. She was wishing 
that she could make an escape as soon as possi¬ 
ble without seeming openly mde. 

“Well, well! And how long did you say 
she’d have to stay there? ” 

“ The doctor said five or six weeks, anyway,” 
^liriam replied, with a queer feeling of 
triumph. For that length of time, at least, 
Marjory did not have to live with this terrible, 
sharp-voiced lady. 

“ You sound as if you were almost glad about 


THE EEAL PEDTCESS 261 

it/’ said Miss Sapphira with open reproach in 
her voice. 

“ Well, I like to have her stay at our house/’ 
answered Miriam quickly. “ It’s lots of fun 
having her there all the time.” 

The lady was standing idle now. She had 
leaned her broom against the side of the house. 
Miriam, watching her, thought that she saw a 
change come over the stern mask-like face at 
her words. 

“ You can tell her for me that I miss her, if 
you want to,” said Miss Sapphira, not at all in 
a sentimental tone. It’s a shame that she had 
to stop work on her quilt just when she was 
beginning to see the end of it. I certainly 
miss her in lots of ways around the house—in 
wiping the dishes and peeling the potatoes for 
me. Marjory was real good at that.” She 
stopped suddenly, not speaking one-half her 
thoughts. 

But Miriam had heard only what the lady 
had spoken aloud. A hot surge of feeling rose 
within her. 

“ Well, she doesn’t have to do any of 
those things while she’s at our house,” she as- 



262 THE EEAL PKINCESS 

serted, taking a backward step down the side¬ 
walk. 

Miss Sapphira looked somewhat surprised, 
but forbore to make answer to the reflection 
on her treatment of Marjory implied in the 
little girl’s words. Something else was ap¬ 
parently on her lips. 

“ Will you tell Marjory, please, that to-day 
is Henry’s birthday, and that the picture is 
hanging in the parlor along with the rest? ” she 
said rapidly. “And one more thing, Miriam, 
—tell her the sun is shining on it! ” 

Miriam nodded, with a mystified look. As 
she hurried along the street toward the big 
house on the hUl, she wondered who Henry 
could be, and why Miss Sapphira was so anx¬ 
ious to have the sun shine upon his picture. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


There remained time only for the briefest 
kind of talk with Marjory when Miriam had 
had her lunch that noon. It was clear to both 
that the search for information about the sub¬ 
ject of adoption had proved unsuccessful. The 
pages in which Marjory had laboriously writ¬ 
ten out what she had found in the books on the 
chair were about as useful to her as a sheet 
written in the Sanskrit langnage. Neither of 
the little girls could apply the knowledge fur¬ 
nished by the dictionary to the case in which 
they were so deeply interested. Miriam sighed 
a little wearily as, hat in hand, she was bidding 
Marjory good-bye again. It had been a 
strenuous noon hour. 

“ I guess I’ll just have to wait and make 
Aunt Mabel do what we want,” she exclaimed 
in a discouraged tone. “ Well, good-bye, 
Marjory. I’ll come back again as soon as I 
possibly can.” To both girls, in the days fol¬ 
lowing Marjory’s accident, school seemed a 

263 


264 


THE BEAL PEmCESS 


very unnecessary part of their lives; but Aunt 
Mabel had been firm in insisting that Miriam 
should not miss school to keep her guest com¬ 
pany. 

“ Marjory can do most of her lessons at 
home with me/’ she had said. “ That way she 
won’t miss so very much, after all.” 

After Miriam had gone that afternoon, Mar¬ 
jory lay quiet on the pretty bed with its soft 
sheets and woolly blankets, half dozing, half 
dreaming. Naturally enough, the question of 
the adoption was uppermost in^ her thoughts. 
She went over the time, less than a year ago, 
when Aunt Sapphira had brought her home 
from the orphan as^dum in the city. She re¬ 
membered that she had not felt very glad then 
that the lady with the sharp black eyes had de¬ 
cided that she would take Marjory home to live 
with her. The asylum life had not been unen¬ 
durable ; there were other children, who by some 
stroke of ill fate or fortune, had like herself 
been deprived of their natural homes. They 
had had many good times together. Then she 
had come away, and as time had gone on, she 
and Miss Sapphira had grown to understand 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


265 


each other much better than they did at first. 
She knew now that her aunt had a tender heart, 
no matter how rough and short she might be in 
her facial expression or in her words. But 
there was something lacking, even in Miss 
Sapphira's tenderest moments, something that 
Marjory was realizing that she never was to 
have. 

Suppose she did come to the house on the 
hill to live. Suppose Aunt Sapphira did con¬ 
sent to give her up and perhaps get some other 
little girl instead, would she, Marjory, come 
any nearer, after all, to her dream of a really 
truly home, where she belonged? Miriam had 
a home like that, for she had a real flesh-and- 
blood aunt of her own. Billy had a real home, 
because his aunt really was his aunt. But in 
her case, whether she were at Miss Sapphira’s 
or here in this beautiful house with Miriam, it 
would be the same old story—she would be 
adopted. She would not really belong. She 
could never feel that she was truly theirs. It 
was just their kindness that enabled her to live 
with them. 

Again and again Marjory tried to tell her- 


266 


THE"BEAL''PEmCESS 


self that the change from the plain little house 
on Maple Street to this beautiful home with its 
gleaming floors and tinkling fountain would be 
as lovely as a fairy dream. But still the hurt, 
lost feeling in her heart asserted itself. She 
would not belong; she never could really be¬ 
long. 

As if a spring had been touched when Mar¬ 
jory descended into this dungeon of sorrowful¬ 
ness and despair, the thought came to her of 
her measure as a princess. This would 
never, never do! If she were a princess, 
she was acting disgracefully by this sort of 
weak rebellion. Instantly Marjory drew a 
deep breath, even straightened herself a little 
against the big pillows, while her eyes grew de¬ 
termined. 

“ I’ll not mind! ” she told herself. “ I will 
not I So there 1 ” 

She wondered again about the real princess 
who occupied the room next to hers. In the 
excitement of recent events, she had almost 
forgotten about it. Surely, some time during 
these days, the princess would see fit to tell her 
more about her royal father and mother. 


THE KEAL PEINCESS 


267 


She dozed a little, and the minutes ticked by. 
Some time later, she was wakened suddenly by 
the whirring sound of Mr. John’s lawn-mower 
underneath the window. With a sudden quick 
pang, she remembered the conversation in the 
garden two days before. Suppose it was really 
true that Miss Cauleigh was inquiring about 
her for some friend outside of town. To leave 
the princess, to leave everything, to go to some 
new and strange place among strange people! 
Again Marjory had to summon all her courage 
to put the horrid doubt away. 

Miriam kept her word and came hurrying 
home from school as quickly as she could. 
After a little reflection, Marjory decided to 
share with her the content of Mr. John’s in¬ 
formation in the garden. 

“So that was what you looked so unhappy 
about! ” said the princess with the deepest in¬ 
terest. She was growing very excited. “ Oh, 
Marjory, you can’t—you just can’t go away 
and leave us! We must do something! Aunt 
Mabel must do something about it; indeed she 
must! ” 

If Marjory had felt disturbed about the un- 


268 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


certainty of her future, Miriam was even more 
so. It was when the latter was just on the 
point of doing the most indiscreet thing she 
could have done under the circumstances, that 
is, to go to Aunt Sapphira and tell her every¬ 
thing, that there was an interruption to their 
excited talk. The door-bell down-stairs rang 
sharply and insistently. 

The girls in the pink-and-white bedroom 
might have let this pass unnoticed. But the 
next moment there were steps on the stairs, 
and Mrs. Best’s voice was saying, “ I’ll take 
you right up. They’re both up-stairs and will 
be very glad to see you, I’m sure.” There was 
no doubt about the fact that they were to have 
a caller. The two looked at each other in per¬ 
plexity. Who could be coming to call upon 
them in this dignified manner? 

They were not long to remain in ignorance. 
Mrs. Best entered the room from the hall, and 
behind her followed no other than Billy’s aunt. 
Miss Barnard. 

“ This explains everything,” sKe said, after 
the first greetings were over. SHe took the 
gayly cretonned wicker rocker that Mrs. Best 


THE BEAL PEINCESS 


269 


pushed forward toward the bed. “ I couldn’t 
imagine what had become of you two and was 
beginning to think you had forgotten all about 
me.” She looked at Marjory’s bandaged ankle 
pityingly. With Mrs. Best’s help, Marjory 
had donned a pretty pink flowered kimono and 
was now lying on the pink coverlet of the bed, 
instead of beneath it. 

Miss Barnard was not slow in coming to the 
point of her call. It seemed that she had had 
word from the doctor that Billy had made 
much more rapid improvement than any one, 
even he, expected. It did not seem advisable 
to leave the cast on longer than the few weeks 
that he had already spent at the hospital. If 
he could be assured of good care and the exact 
carrying out of directions, Billy could spend 
the rest of his convalescence just as satisfac¬ 
torily at home as at the hospital. 

Marjory clapped her hands in delight. 
“ Then is he coming home? ” she asked. 

‘‘ In a week or two,” Miss Barnard told her, 
pleased at her enthusiasm. “ The doctor sent 
a detailed program which he is to follow out. 
I’ll go to the city on an early train when he 


270 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


comes and bring him home. But—and this is 
what I came for,” she added quickly, “ I 
haven’t had a chance to do all the things we 
talked about when you came to see me. You 
were going to help me, you know, and now of 
course you can’t. But I thought we could talk 
it over, anyway, and I could get a few things 
that you thought Billy’d like.” 

It developed that the things which both Mar¬ 
jory and Miriam could suggest were not those 
which called for time in their preparation. The 
three fell to making plans with whole-hearted 
enthusiasm. 

“ He likes flowers and green things,” stated 
Marjory. “ Oh, it would be lovely if you 
could fix the porch so that he could stay out 
there a good deal of the time. Miss Barnard. 
Can he go up and down steps, do you sup¬ 
pose? ” 

Miss Barnard nodded a little doubtfully. 
“Anything within reason and good sense,” she 
said. “You see he needs exercise to make his 
hip strong, but too much of it or too rough use 
will undo all the good that he has gotten from 
the treatment, the doctor said. Oh, I am going 



THE EEAL PEmCESS 


271 


to be careful! ” she exclaimed. “ If anything 
I can do will help Billy to grow strong, there is 
nothing too hard for me to try.” 

“ Well,” remarked Miriam practically, 
“ there are going to be rainy days when he can’t 
even stay on the porch. Don’t you think 
he’d like to stay in the parlor if it were light 
and pretty in there? ” she ventured. 

Their visitor nodded. “ I said I hadn’t 
time to make any changes,” she went on. “ I 
meant big changes. I don’t suppose you’d 
think the parlor looked quite the same if you 
were to go in there to-day. I’ve taken down 
the red velvet curtains at the windows, and put 
up rose silk ones with white net curtains inside. 
Then I followed out your idea, Marjory, of 
having plants along the window-sill. That is, 
I have two plants, a big fern and a baby palm 
that I got at the greenhouse. I thought that 
for the summer we’d rather have our flowering 
plants on the porch and in the window boxes 
that I’m going to have built.” She paused for 
breath. 

“ Oh, that’s just splendid! ” interposed Mar¬ 
jory admiringly. “ Oh, Billy will like that] ” 


272 


THE BEAL PBINCESS 


“ Then IVe taken down the hangings be¬ 
tween the hall and parlor and the ones at the 
library door across the hall. They seemed 
heavy, somehow, and made the rooms dark. 
I’ve had Maggie take a good many of the little 
things around the rooms, like vases and mantel 
ornaments, to a nice little box in the attic that 
I got ready for them. We took a few of the 
heavier pieces of furniture up-stairs, too. The 
black sofa has a new Navajo rug over its back 
now that is meant for Billy’s birthday, which 
comes along in a week or two. Now can you 
think of anything else that he’d like espe¬ 
cially? ” 

It seemed as if Miss Barnard had thought 
out the matter pretty carefully herself, despite 
her modest attitude. She had caught the out- 
of-doors idea from her earlier talk with the two 
girls, and its main points—light, air, plenty of 
room, and cheerfulness—were very clearly 
brought out in the changes she had made. She 
left the house on the hill with the approving 
exclamations of her self-chosen judges ringing 
in her ears. The three were agreed that Billy 
would be delighted. 




CHAPTER XXXII 


It was quiet hour in the Eastboro Orphan 
Asylum. The long corridor on which the front 
door opened was empty save for an attendant 
who was working about quietly, ready to 
answer the call of any visitor. When the big 
gong above the door jangled suddenly, the 
woman tucked her dusting-cloth behind a chair, 
and went to the door. 

A tall, eager-faced lady stood at the entrance 
and asked to see the matron of the asylum. 
The attendant showed her into the little room 
at the left of the entrance, where the matron sat 
at her desk. Miss Cauleigh, for it was she, 
after a brief greeting, quietly shut the door 
behind her and stated her errand without 
further delay. At her words the matron 
opened a ponderous ledger lying at one side on 
the table at which she sat. 

“ Huxton, you say? Miss Sapphira Hux- 
ton? Here it is. ‘ November twenty-eighth. 
Marjory B'.’ Is that the one you mean? ” 

‘‘Yes.” Miss Cauleigh’s reply was quick 

273 


274 THE EEAL PEmCESS 

and incisive. “ ‘ Marjory B.’—^you say? What 
does the ‘ B ’ stand for? ” 

The matron looked at her caller in per¬ 
plexity, then down at the book again. “ That’s 
queer,” she said. “ I don’t see why they didn’t 
write out the name. You see I’m new here 
since the child came, though I was here when 
she left, of course. But the lady that has her 
now, ma’am, has the first right to adopt her, 
you understand. If you were thinking of 
adopting-” 

‘‘ No, no.” Miss Cauleigh impatiently in¬ 
terrupted her. The tension was beginning to 
tell upon her, for her face looked white and 
di’awn. Hurriedly, in as few words as pos¬ 
sible, she told of the tragedy in her sister’s 
family,—how after believing them all dead, she 
had got trace of little Miriam in far-off Eng¬ 
land, and while joy struggled with sorrow in 
her heart, had brought the child home; and now 
Marjory with the same dark hair and eyes as 
the princess and the same little mannerisms of 
speech and actions which brought Miss Cau- 
leigh’s dead sister so vividly to mind, had put 
a hope and a half belief into the lady’s heart 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 


275 


that the little girl was really the other niece, 
Miriam’s sister. 

When the story was finished, the matron 
looked at the white anxious face before her and 
resolved to lend all aid in her power to prove 
the identity of the child. As she read and re¬ 
read the scant record on the sheet in the ledger, 
however, she feared that what help she could 
offer would be little. The two women sat in 
silence for a few minutes, one fearing and hop¬ 
ing, the other anxious to be of service and yet 
with no apparent means at hand by which she 
might throw light on the subject. Suddenly 
the matron rose and pressed a button near the 
desk. As she did so, Miss Cauleigh could hear 
the peal of a distant bell at the further end of 
the corridor. 

“ I’ll call old Jim. He has been here nearly 
twelve years, and knows every child on the 
place well. He used to help with the records 
sometimes, I remember. It’s just possible 
that he may know something of the child.” 

As she finished speaking, the door opened, 
and a ruddy-cheeked, bent old man came in. 
He peered at the visitor’s anxious face inquir- 


276 


THE KEAL PRINCESS 


ingly, and, not recognizing it, stood quietly 
waiting for the matron to speak. 

“Jim,” she said by way of introduction, 
“ this is Miss Cauleigh, of Mapleton.” 

The old man bowed ceremoniously, and 
beamed one of his cheery smiles. “ Why, I 
know John Grimson that works on your place,” 

he exclaimed in delight. “ I remember-” 

But the matron interrupted him. He took 
no offense, for he was used to having his re¬ 
marks cut short by the hurrying business of the 
day. 

“ Jim, do you remember a little girl named 
Marjory who left here last November? A 
Miss Huxton took her for adoption? ” 

“ Marj’rybee? Well, I should just say I 
did remember!” answered old Jim gleefully. 
“ That child wasn’t any ord’nary child, ma’am; 

she-” he turned enthusiastically to Miss 

Cauleigh who sat tensely on her chair, im¬ 
patient to question the man herself. 

“ Yes, yes, Jim,” said the matron soothingly. 
“ But can you remember anything about her 
family? She’s put down here on the books 
simply as Marjory B.” 




THE KEAL PEINCESS 


277 


^ Marj’rybee,” agreed the old man nodding. 
“ Yes, that’s what we used to call her. I wish 
you’d brought her along to-day, ma’am,” he 
added aside to Miss Cauleigh. 

“ Can you remember who brought her, Jim? 
Didn’t she have any real name? ” 

“ Let’s see, let’s see. Was she the little girl 
that the old maid brought? I remember she 
said the baby was left on her front stoop and 
she hadn’t any use for her, nohow. No, that 
wasn’t the one,” he corrected himself. “ That 

was a later one. Marj’rybee, Marj’rybee-” 

“ Can’t you remember what the ‘ B' ’ stood 
for? ” put in Miss Cauleigh, speaking for the 
first time. 

B ’? Oh, now I have it! I remember 
just as well as if ’twas yesterday. ’Twas a 
man that brought her, an old sea cap’n, if I 
remember rightly.” 

Miss Cauleigh leaned forward in her anxiety 
to catch every word. The matron, too, was 
interested and she knew that once started in the 
right direction, old Jim would prolong his story 
until every available fact which he could re¬ 
member was told. So she settled herself back 



278 THE KEAL PEINCESS 

in her chair while the man commenced his ac¬ 
count of little “ Marj’rybee.” 

“ He was a rugged old fellow, and I remem¬ 
ber how the little lass hung onto him until the 
last minute. He didn’t want to let her go, 
either,—^he’d picked her off of some island or 
other,—that fellow wouldn’t have turned down 
a lost kitten if it had come his way; but the fact 
was, he was due to sail on his ship overseas next 
day, and he hadn’t anybody belongin’ to him 
who would take the child off his hands,—so he 
brought her here. Then her name,—that you 
asked about, ma’am: I remember what a time 
me and the matron that was here then had over 
it. The cap’n didn’t know what her name was 
any more than we did, of course.” 

“ Wasn’t the child old enough to know her 
name? ” questioned Miss Cauleigh. 

The old man before her laughed doubtfully. 
“ Well, I guess she thought she did, ma’am, 
but it was an awful queer-soundin’ one,—one 
we couldn’t spell, nohow. I can remember 
just how she said it, starin’ at us with her great 
black eyes, just like a pup does when he’s 
learnin’ his tricks. She tried so hard to tell 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 


279 


us, ye know! Well, the first name was made 
out as Marj’ry, but the rest was beyond us, 
except the ‘ B ’ that the other name began 
with, so we put it down in the book that way, 
‘ Marj’ry B.’ I can remember just how she 
said it, though,—‘ Mar—shy Bush—a,’ just 
like that.” 

Miss Cauleigh drew a long breath and leaned 
back in her seat. A slow smile crept over her 
set features as she looked into the matron’s 
face. 

“ Marcia Boucher,” she said slowly. “ That 
was the name of my sister’s younger child.” 

“ Well, say, ma’am, that’s her, ain’t it? ” 
said the old man, delightedly shaking her hand. 
“ So ’twas Marcia B, was it? I’m glad you’ve 
found her, I’m glad you found her,” he re¬ 
peated. “ Ever since she growed up big 
enough to want anything here, Marj’rybee has 
wanted a real home and real folks, an’ now it 
looks as though she’s got ’em,” 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


The painters had finished their work on the 
Huxton house, and left it gleaming in its new 
dress. The old elms in front of it seemed to 
feel the general atmosphere of improvement 
and lifted their great branches a little higher 
to show becoming pride. Old Jacob had 
mowed down with his sharp scythe the long 
grass behind the house and in the orchard, and 
cut it at intervals with the lawn-mower, bring¬ 
ing all the land together in one stretch of 
smooth turf. The neighbors all commented 
approvingly on the change wrought in the old 
place and wonderingly tried to account for it. 
One feature onlj^ did it seem to lack,—and that 
was the sense of being lived in. True, there 
were curtains at the windows, and the shades 
in the front parlor were now drawn high 
enough to let in the morning sunshine—a 
change indeed. But nowhere were there to be 
seen the cheery colors of blooming plants and 

shrubs, or heard the happy cluck of chickens, 

280 



THE EEAL PRINCESS 


281 


the canary’s merry trill, or the sound of voices 
that mark a place as home. There had been, 
a few weeks before, to be sure, a little girl fly¬ 
ing in and out of the old house, who helped to 
give the old place a pleasant atmosphere; but 
she was not there now, and the old house 
seemed stiller than ever. 

So thought Miss Sapphira as she sat ponder¬ 
ing in the speckless little sitting-room. Her 
eyes wandered aimlessly over to the face of the 
old clock on the mantel-shelf. 

“ My, my, what a long morning this has 
been,” she sighed to herself. “ Seems as if 
’tweren’t worth while to cook up dinner when 
Marjory’s not here. Who could have dreamed 
I’d miss the child so? My, I’ll be glad when 
her ankle gets well, and she can come home.” 
She rose wearily and wandered about the 
rooms, automatically flicking away with her 
apron a stray speck of dust here and there. 
Then she went up the stairs and into Marjory’s 
little room under the southwest eaves. 

“ Well, I never realized this room was so 
worn-out looking,” she told herself as she sat 
down in the decrepit little rocker by the win- 


282 


THE EEAL PKmCESS 


dow. “ Marjory’s never said a word about it, 
either. All she wanted fixed up was the yard. 
Won’t she be pleased, though, to see how nice 
it looks when she comes home!” Miss Sap- 
phira gazed meditatively down at the carpet 
beneath her feet. “ Sakes alive! That carpet’s 
just coming to rags. I do believe I’ll get her 
a new one and surprise her with it! ” 

So, all unknown to Marjory, whose lame 
ankle kept her captive in the pink-and-white 
bedroom on the hill, the threadbare carpet in 
her little room was taken up, and a pretty 
blue-and-gray rug put in its place,—not to 
stay, however, for the more attention Miss 
Sapphira gave to the room the greater number 
of things she saw that needed altering. Thus 
it happened that a neat gray border was 
painted around the edge of the floor before the 
blue-and-gray rug went down again; but even 
before that. Miss Sapphira, all the time reason¬ 
ing rather apologetically to herself, had 
spirited in a paperer, who proceeded to cover 
up the gloomy, spotted, and torn paper with a 
neat blue-and-white-striped one. Before it 
was time for Marjory to come home, a dainty 


THE EEAL PEINCESS 


283 


white wooden bedstead and bureau to match 
had taken the place of the heavy walnut set; 
and a little white wicker rocking-chair with 
blue cushions had replaced its creaking pred¬ 
ecessor. Altogether the room looked quite 
transformed when Miss Sapphira had finished 
with it. 

“ Maybe it’s foolish of me,” she told herself 
doubtfully. “ I suppose I’ll spoil the child 
dreadfully after she gets home. I know 
Father would never approve of it, but I never 
knew it could be such fun to furbish up a 
little.” 

She went down-stairs to her solitary dinner, 
growing more and more lonely as the moments 
passed. Each day of Marjory’s enforced six 
weeks’ absence seemed to drag by like a whole 
week in itself. At length she put on her hat, 
resolved on a visit to the big house to find out 
how soon she might expect her little ward home 
again. 

“ Seems as though she ought to be able to 
come by now,” she argued wistfully. “ I’m 
sure she could if I got her some little crutches, 
and had a cab to bring her home. Anyway, 


284 


THE KEAL PKINCESS 


I’ll be glad to find out about it. My, won’t I 
be glad when she gets home, though! ” she re¬ 
peated. In passing to the door her eyes fell 
on Marjory’s little work-basket with the neatly 
cut squares of cloth for the quilt lying in it. 

“ Do you suppose I’d better take it up to 
her? ” she pondered. “ It would give a kind 
of excuse, and maybe she’d like to work on it 
while she’s got so much time on her hands.” 
Then she set her lips firmly. “No, I won’t! 
I’m not going to make the child do what I 
hated to do so when I was little, even if it does 
spoil her. Besides, I don’t need any excuse to 
go and see her, being her lawful guardian.” 

So she passed out of the house, a lonely old 
figure, going up to the hill in search of her miss¬ 
ing happiness. 

For the first time since her fall, Marjory was 
down-stairs. Miriam had seen her comfortably 
established in a big chair on the screened porch, 
before she herself started for school. It was 
here that Miss Sapphira found her. 

Marjory had known now for some time that 
Miriam was her sister and Miss Cauleigh her 
aunt. The news that her aunt had brought 


THE BEAL PEINCESS 285 

home on the afternoon when she returned from 
the orphanage had come as a complete sur¬ 
prise to her. She felt that she was living in 
one of her own fairy tales. They had planned 
to tell Miss Sapphira as soon as Marjory was 
able to get about, but the ankle had had a severe 
wrench, and was slow to heal. Marjory knew 
that the moment for breaking the news had 
come, however, when she saw Miss Sapphira 
come up the steps this afternoon. 

The thoughts of the lady before her were 
far from anticipating any such astounding in¬ 
formation. She noted with pleasure the 
healthy glow in Marjorj^’s cheeks, and rejoiced 
when she perceived that the ankle could be 
used even now to a small extent. 

“ Well, Marjory,” she began, “ when are 
you coming home? You don’t laiow how 
lonesome it’s been without you, child.” 

Speaking openly of her affections had never 
been Miss Sapphira’s custom in Marjory’s ex¬ 
perience; therefore the little girl looked sur¬ 
prised. She knew she must tell Miss Sapphira 
of her new relatives, however, and tried to do 
it as gently as she could. 


286 


THE EEAL PEI:N'CESS 


“ Aunt Sapphira,” she said softly, would 
you mind very much if I didn’t come home at 
all? ” Even Marjory was frightened when 
she saw the effect of her words. 

“Not come home at all? What do you 
mean, Marjory? ” The lady sat up straight 
in her chair and stared at the little girl with 
incredulous eyes. “ Not—come—^home? ” she 
repeated slowly. 

Marjory straightened up from her pillows, 
looking troubled and bewildered, not knowing 
how best to go on. But Miss Cauleigh, hear¬ 
ing the sound of voices, came out on the porch 
just then, and in answer to Marjory’s en¬ 
treaties, told Miss Sapphira the details of her 
visit to the orphanage. 

Their visitor, at last acquainted with the 
facts, looked astonished, disturbed, and dis¬ 
appointed in turn, but she was determined 
that Marjory should not see it. 

“Well, this is a surprise!” she said at last, 
drawing a long breath. Then her eyes rested 
fondly on the little figure in the great easy- 
chair. “ I’m glad as can be that you’ve found 
your own folks, Marjory,” she added gener- 



THE EEAL PEINCESS 


287 


ously. With the little empty blue-and-white 
room at home in mind, however, she could not 
keep a shade of wistfulness out of her voice. 
Marjory looked troubled again; then glancing 
beyond Miss Sapphira to the drive that wound 
up to the great house on the hill, her expression 
changed to one of delight. 

For who was coming up the walk with 
Miriam? No one but Billy Barnard himself, 
and on two sound legs! 


CHAPTER XXXIY 


“Why, Billy!” cried Marjory joyfully 
when she saw him. 

A small wheel-chair pushed by Billy’s aunt 
appeared presently; but Billy had gained his 
triumph. He had walked unaided up the 
front sidewalk to the house on the hill. 

When the company was settled, there ensued 
a merry babel of voices while the children went 
over together the events that had taken place 
in Billy’s absence. The boy had made friends 
rapidly in his stay at the hospital, and he had 
many lively stories to tell about each, giving 
the impression to his listeners that during the 
whole time of his stay there, there had been 
nothing but mirth and jollity to take up his 
attention. He did not mention the fact that 
his traveling-cloak had rescued him from many 
a long dark hour of loneliness and racking 
pain. Perhaps this habit of forgetting the 
unpleasant things and treasuring up the good, 

was what made Billy, poor little lame chap 

288 






















THE KEAL PRINCESS 289 

that he had been all his life, so popular among 
the boys and girls of his age. 

“ My,” breathed Miriam with dancing eyes, 
after an especially funny tale, “ why, I believe 
it would be fun to go to the hospital! ” 

Her aunt, knowing the truth, met Billy’s 
twinkling blue eyes smilingly. She did not 
hope for any such trip for her girls, but she 
hoped if they were forced to take it that they 
could meet its experiences with a cheerfulness 
and courage equal to Billy’s. 

“ I’ve never had a chance to thank you for 
putting out that fire,” said Miss Sapphira 
gratefully, when there was a lull in the rem¬ 
iniscences. “Any one would know that the 
house would have burned up like a match-box 
if it had once got a good start.” 

“ Oh, that wasn’t anything,” disparaged 
Billy. ‘‘ I’m afraid I spoiled your grape-vine, 
though; a paid of it broke,” he added ruefully. 

Miss Sapphira laughed. “ A grape-vine 
isn’t of much account when your house is burn¬ 
ing down,” she returned. 

‘‘ Well, I’m through with crutches for good 
and all,” sighed Billy, looking around him with 


290 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


satisfaction, as if their very absence were a 
comfort. “ I ought to have brought them back 
with me, and handed them over to you, Mar-» 
jory,’’ he suggested with a mischievous grin. 

“No, thank you! ” declined Marjory. “ I 
don’t believe I’d like them any better than you 
did. Besides, my ankle will be all right again 
in a week or two, and then you’d have to take 
back your old crutches.” 

“ I never want to see them again,” declared 
Billy fervently. “Gracious!” he broke off 
and looked at Marjory curiously. “ AVhy, you 
must be a real princess now, aren’t you? ” 

Marjory stared back at him. Why, of 
course! If she were the sister of a princess, 
she must be one also. How strange that this 
had not occurred to her until Billy spoke! So 
many new aspects of the state of being 
Miriam’s sister were being discovered every 
day that Marjoiy was already quite bewil¬ 
dered. 

“Why—why, I suppose I am!” she 
answered, still pondering the question, for she 
could not make it seem true that she was really 
a princess. 



THE REAL PRINCESS 


291 


‘‘ Of course you are, if Miriam is/’ said Billy 
conclusively. 

“ What nonsense are you children talking? ” 
questioned Miss Cauleigh, who had turned to 
speak to a seiwant and had heard only the last ' 
part of Billy’s remark. 

“ Marjory is a princess now, too, isn’t she? ” 
he asked boldly. 

“ A princess? I don’t understand,” and yet 
there was a gleam of understanding in Miss 
Cauleigh’s face as she recalled the remark Mar¬ 
jory had ventured on the subject that day in 
the garden. 

“ Mr. John told us before you came that 
you were bringing the princess’ daughter home 
with you, Aunt Mabel,” explained Marjory. 

“ Well, anyway, you’ve got your first wish, 
haven’t you? ” put in Billy. “ You said you’d 
rather have a sister than anything else you 
could think of.” 

Marjor}^ laughed gleefully. “ Yes, I did 
wish that, and it’s come true. I think I’m the 
happiest girl that ever lived,” and even Miss 
Sapphira could not help being glad for her. 
She was glad in Marjory’s happiness. 


292 


THE EEAL PKINCESS 


“ But who do they mean by the princess, 
Aunt Mabel? ” questioned Miriam innocently. 

“ I’m afraid they were mistaken about your 
being a real princess, Miriam.” jMiss Cauleigh 
laughed softly, but her eyes were wet. “ Mar¬ 
jory is very much more like her than you are. 
You see, ‘ Princess ’ was my pet name for 
Isabel—your mother.” 

Marjory looked at Bill}^ and Billy looked 
back at Marjory, and the fair}" bubble that 
had been of so much consequence to them both 
in the past weeks, broke and vanished into thin 
air. 

“ Then weTl have to call Marjory the prin¬ 
cess after this—not me, because she’s so much 
like Mother,” said Miriam softlv. 

“ I think we shall, dear,” agreed her aunt, 
and she looked lovingly at her two nieces. 

Marjory never knew of the changes that took 
place in her little southwest bedroom behind the 
elms. Miss Sapphira went home that after¬ 
noon and closed the door upon the pretty blue- 
and-gray rug and shining furniture, trying 
hard not to give way to her disappointment. 
It was only after another little homeless girl 



THE KEAL PKINCESS 


293 


from the orphanage came to live with her a 
year later —Si little girl who surveyed the pretty 
room with just such delighted eyes as Marjory 
might have had—^that she began to feel happy 
and contented once more. 


THE END 















I 




Jt 


V 





































































































